Starlit Skies
by Liza Lew
Summary: Six years after her exit from pureblood society, Hermione is a successful witch. Draco has finally grown into his own. Neither of them is prepared to be thrown back together. Sequel to The Moonlight Glares. Post DH. HG/DM, HP/GW.
1. Prelude: A Brief Introduction

Starlit Skies

Liza Lew

Disclaimer: I do not own any of JKR's wonderful world or characters. This is a fan fiction only for entertainment purposes with no economical benefit. The few original characters and the plot are mine.

Summary: Six years after her exit from pureblood society, Hermione is a successful witch leading a quiet life in a charming town. Draco has finally grown into his role as businessman. Neither of them is prepared to be thrown back together for the new societal schemes of Narcissa. Sequel to The Moonlight Glares. Post DH, disregarding epilogue. DM/HG, HP/GW.

**To all my readers, new and old: Below is a summary of the prequel, **_**The Moonlight Glares**_**. If you do not need a refresher, skip to the next chapter and welcome to the world of **_**Starlit Skies**_**.**

A Brief Summary of The Moonlight Glares

Early in the summer before Hermione's sixth year at Hogwarts, she got some shocking news. She was not, as she previously believed, muggleborn, but rather a pureblood witch, was explained by her birth mother, Elizabeth Lane. Instead of getting into a custody battle with the Grangers, Elizabeth offered Hermione a choice: to move in with her birth mother, step father and half-sister, Anna, at the Lane Mansion, or remain with her muggle family.

Before making her final decision, the conflicted Hermione visited the Lane Mansion and was exposed to the Pureblooded Wizarding Society of Europe. Thrown into a world of glitter and propriety, Hermione was initially taken with the fairy tale appeal of such a society. Made aware of the situation and wanting to help, Harry, Ron and Ginny decided to attend the societal events with Hermione for support.

Barely into the beginning of its social season, through a series of mishaps, Hermione found herself as Draco Malfoy's "girlfriend." Though they initially hated each other, they called a truce in order to keep face in front of the harsh society. Slowly, through the sheer amount of time they spent in each others' company, they began to have feelings for each other, resulting in their fake relationship having some validity.

By that time in the summer, Hermione had come to the end of her month-long trial period and had decided to remain in the pureblood world. Just as she made this decision, the truth behind this glimmering world began to show through. Through the aggressive behavior of a male acquaintance, the mindless twitter of the girls around her, and (of course) extensive reading, Hermione came to realize that the society was inherently unequal and patriarchical in its construct.

Her final decision came on the night of August 31st, 1996, when Draco Malfoy informed her of their engagement and she turned heel in pursuit of the life she wanted, where she could, "learn, mess up, get my hands dirty, and spend time with the ones I love – magical or not," leaving him behind under the light of the full moon.

Since then, the events of The Half-Blood Prince and The Deathly Hallows have come to pass. We begin this story in 2002, with Hermione a twenty-two year old, single, but successful witch.


	2. Chapter 1: The Proposal

Chapter One: The Proposal

The crisp autumn breeze blew the brunette's curls around her face and caused her to pull her tan coat tighter around her. The burnt orange-red scarf around her neck flew behind her and when the wind blew again, she nearly toppled over thanks to the ten books in her arms. Walking home from the University campus was always an adventure in these cool days. Waving to a few fellow students, she exited the grand wrought iron gate and turned onto the quiet street lined with orange, yellow and red colored leaves.

Dusk was approaching and the quiet that enveloped the sleepy town was comforting as she walked the mile home. She saw one or two other townspeople and cheerfully waved in their directions, barely managing over the books. She reached her own little house just as the sun was setting and managed to sidle through the low white gate, but had to dump her books on the red bench near the door before unlocking it. The house itself was small and very picturesque; faded off-white with ivy and flowers growing all over it. The deep blue door creaked as she opened it, revealing a classic entry. Holding the door open with a foot, she scooped up her books in turned inside.

Passing the stairs to enter the kitchen, she set the books on her round wooden table next to a flowery pitcher filled to the brim with bright autumn flowers. Noticing the approaching darkness, she drew her wand and pointed it at the fireplace across the room, proceeding to shed her coat and boots to leave them on a rack near the backdoor. Hands on her hips, she walked to the center of the kitchen, pondered for a moment and then raised a selection of vegetables and chicken out of the icebox and began cooking.

An hour later, Hermione Granger sat in her favorite chair, book in one hand, fork in the other, eating a quiet dinner in front of her fire like most evenings.

Miss Granger had grown up a lot since her years at Hogwarts. Now twenty-two, she was a successful young healer at St. Mungo's most of the week and a part-time muggle university student the rest of it. The town she lived in provided the perfect balance between her muggle and magical lives – its residents were a mixture of the two, almost all of which she knew by name after four years among them.

The muggle university, just a mile away, had become her place of refuge. She had not been out of school for long before she determined she never really wanted to leave it. With this mindset, she had begun both her healer's training and taking one course a semester at the muggle university. (Her transcripts, had of course be forged by magic, but the school was none-the-wiser). Every semester she indulged herself in philosophy, literature or the natural sciences; as a way to simply escape.

Her other outlet was the upstairs of her house, which consisted entirely of books. Though her library was not yet castle-sized, nor even close to that of Hogwarts, she had three rooms and countless hallways filled to the brim with books on every subject imaginable, magical or not.

Of course, this quiet life would not have been possible if it had not been for surviving the war or, rather, Harry's winning it. Their trip through the mundane British countryside – her, Ron and Harry – seemed so long ago that she had blocked out the ugly details. She had, after Harry's defeat of Voldemort, been the sole member of the Golden Trio to return to Hogwarts and finish her seventh year alongside Ginny.

At the end of the war, she found her parents and little brother in Australia, and reinstated their memories as Jane, Frank and Johnny Granger rather than Monica, Wendell and Thomas Wilikns, respectively. With her adoptive family she remained incredibly close. Johnny, now in high school, frequented Hermione's on the weekends, and she visited their house for dinner quite often, not to mention chatting on the phone with her mother every other day.

With her birth family, discovered more than six years ago, she had severed most ties. She had no interest in their pureblood society and as Mrs. Lane's sole purpose in finding Hermione had been to propel her through the societal ladders to an arranged marriage, Hermione wasn't too keen on maintaining a relationship with her. With her half-sister, Anna, however, she did correspond frequently by letter. They had been close for Hermione's last year at Hogwarts and maintained that friendship through a distance. She had not, in fact, seen Anna in over a year, but heard of her societal exploits and success as freelance artist in detail.

With the other characters of that summer, she had maintained minimal contact; the placid girls of that society held no investment of friendship. Her time was spent in forging friendships as she worked with Harry and Ron for the betterment of the wizarding world, through Dumbledore's Army and the Order of the Phoenix, and was immensely proud of the family she had surrounded herself with.

Harry and Ginny, of course, were dating, though they had broken it off during the war, they had resumed their relationship the morning after Voldemort's defeat. Further, if Harry's hint were any suggestion, they were expecting to be engaged soon. Ron, whose adventures with Chels had ended with that fateful social season, had been the perfect boyfriend to Hermione for the space of a year. It was at the end of this year that she figured out that they had been brother and sister for so long that it was impossible to date. Hermione had, since then, been relatively single, though there had been the occasional date or romance. A particularly entertaining few months had been spent with Oliver Wood, whom she re-met after the conclusion of the war. However, seeing as she talked constantly of books, and him of quidditch, it did not work out.

Her life was quiet, and peaceful. Nothing of great note had happened since the Battle of Hogwarts, and for the last four years, Hermione had found herself in a normal life for the first time since she was eleven years old. Studying subjects she enjoyed, working at a job she excelled at, and surrounding herself with people she loved, she was content.

Early the next morning, Hermione was already down in the kitchen again, making an omelet with bell peppers as an owl swooped in the open window to drop the paper on the counter next to her. Hermione smiled, grabbed the change out of the jar above the oven, and paid the creature, bidding it good day.

Second and third owls had swooped through the window as she did this, one a familiar tawny and the other official-looking. The tawny was Harry's and brought a note inviting her to visit this evening as usual. The official one stepped forward, offering an envelope from St. Mungo's. Hermione held her breath and opened the letter. All but the signature was in a formal script:

Dear Miss Granger,

We are pleased to inform you that your application for the position of Healer-In-Charge of the Spell Damage Division has been received and is under consideration. We invite you to attend an interview on this coming Tuesday with our Chief Healer and the board of trustees. You will be excused from your regularly scheduled rounds on that day.

In the meantime, please prepare the following application supplements and obtain two professional references.

All the Best,

Jonathan Stills

Healing Staff Hiring Manager

St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries

London

Breathing a sigh of relief, Hermione place the letter on the counter beside her and concluded making her breakfast, forgetting about The Daily Prophet lying underneath it. An hour later found Miss Granger in lime green robes on the fourth floor of St. Mungo's. She could hardly keep the grin on her face off as she started rounds of her patients.

A tall, dark-haired man in lime green robes behind her saw her grin. "You got it, didn't you?" Hermione laughed and said, "Not yet, Anthony. I got the letter for the interview this morning."

He grinned with her and gave her a bear hug. "Knew you would. You'll charm those board people within the week and be our new Healer-In-Charge of Spell Damage not long after!"

Hermione grinned at the compliment and proceeded to divvy up the rounds in their four main wards between the two of them, laughing at Anthony's banter until she departed for the Janis Thickey Ward to check on her long term patients while Anthony went to Ward 45 to discharge two of their short term cases. Another busy day at St. Mungo's had begun.

When Hermione retired from work that evening, she apparated straight to Harry's. As per the usual on Friday night, she was the first one there. Harry was just getting out the flatware when she arrived. As he turned to greet her, Hermione noticed that he looked particularly dressed-up. And slightly nervous. She grinned.

"Is there an announcement or something that I don't know about tonight? Some special occasion?" Hermione's eyes glittered with mirth.

Harry cleared his throat, "Yeah… I. Well…"

Hermione's eyes got wide, "You're going to ask her tonight, right? Harry that's so exciting!"

Harry blushed as Hermione began busying herself around the kitchen, pulling plates, glasses and cutlery out of cupboards. She began setting the table for six as Harry moved the dishes on to the table. Within five minutes, Luna waltzed in, looking dreamy.

"Hello Harry. Hello Hermione. Harry, I brought some gurdyroot infusion, for the special occasion." Harry turned red again and asked how she knew. Luna just smiled her airy smile and set the drink on the table.

As Luna began inquiring about Hermione's work and a worried Harry paced in the corner, Ron and Neville strolled in chatting. The broad grin on Ron's face was reserved for Harry as he said, "Ready for it, mate?"

Luna and Hermione made eye contact at that moment and subsided into giggles. Neville looked hopelessly lost and Harry turned even redder. It was, of course, at that moment that Ginny appeared, raising an eyebrow at Hermione and Luna, and saying "Did you all start the party without me?"

An hour later found the six friends relaxed and laughing as they sat at the table looking out into the sunset sky. Their plates were, for the most part, empty, and all but Luna drank a glass of butterbeer as they talked, as Luna preferred the Gurdyroot infusion. When there was a rare moment of quiet, Harry turned to Ginny. Smiles stole the faces of their friends as he tentatively began.

"Ginny?" she turned towards him and cocked her head, her brown eyes meeting his green ones. In the quiet, she waited for him to continue. Finally, he did.

"I've known you a long time. At first, you were just my best friend's little sister who had an incredibly obvious crush on me." Ginny turned red at this as Harry continued, "But then, I started to get to know you. After the Chamber of Secrets, countless stays at the Burrow, starting Dumbledore's Army, infiltrating the ministry. . . you became my friend. And it wasn't until you had ceased to like me and began dating my dorm mate," this time Harry grinned, "that I realized I was falling for you. Of course, by that time I had heard Ron vent about the boys you dated quite a bit, enough to give me a prickle of guilty fear every time my stomach did flip-flops over you. I. . . I can't describe how happy I was when we started dating, that summer that we accompanied Hermione in her adventure to find her birth family, in and out of wizarding and muggle societies. Then the year at school after that – with the Slug Club, quidditch and hours on the Hogwarts grounds. I'll never be able to tell you how much it broke my heart to separate from you for the duration of the war.

I don't know that I ever told you this, but. . . on those long months traveling around to destroy Voldemort. . . whenever I was lonely, or hurt or tired, I thought of you, and I was better. The day we visited Luna's father, the first thought I had upon apparating was that you were closer to me than you had been since Bill and Fleur's wedding. Only the resolve of these two behind me stopped me from going to find you, and forced me to continue our quest. And after the dust had settled, when the war was concluded, and you took me back, I was already hoping for a future together."

Harry knelt down in front of Ginny on one knee and revealed a little jewelry box, opening it to show a beautiful gold ring with a diamond in an old European cut, circled by small, sparkling rubies. Ginny's breath caught in her throat as Harry asked, "Ginevra Weasley, I love you and want to be in your life for all time. Will you marry me?"

There was a squeal and then a mass of red hair flying as Ginny attacked Harry, embracing him and kissing him full on the lips. As she broke away, a now brilliantly smiling Harry said, "I'll take that as a yes?" to which Ginny responded by kissing him again.

The prolonged kiss was interrupted by Ron clearing his throat, which earned him a terrific glare from Ginny and an elbow in the ribs by Hermione. Neville simply looked dumbfounded. Luna dreamily remarked, "Put the pretty Gryffindor ring on, Ginny."

Ginny looked startled and then turned to Harry, who slide the ring onto her finger with ease, their eyes locked on each other the whole time. After looking down at the ring, then up at Harry, Ginny turned to her friends and exclaimed "I'm engaged!" She then proceeded to run around to the other side of the table to show Hermione and Luna the ring.

Ron raised an eyebrow at Harry, as if to say "girls," but Harry was far too happy to catch the sign. Neville, who had finally caught up, turned to Harry and said, "Congratulations Harry! That's spectacular!" A chorus of congratulations were repeated, followed by questions about when the wedding would be, where it would be, and where the couple was going to live . . .

"Enough!" Ginny interrupted her over-eager friends, "We will update you when we know the details. What we do know –" she looked at Harry briefly, who nodded, "—is that we would like each of you to be in the wedding."

This was followed by squeals and excited chatter from the girls, and looks of astonishment and discomfort from the boys, but overall a multitude of "yes's" and "of course's." The rest of the evening passed with relatively little excitement, besides the usual enjoyment that a group of good friends together can bring.


	3. Chapter 2: The Article

Chapter Two: The Article

Hermione got in so late that evening that she didn't even read before bed, and found herself getting up the next morning within the blink of an eye. The sunlight that hit her during her tired trudge downstairs into the kitchen portrayed the late hour, and she was thankful that she was not on call today. As she stood there yawning, an owl tapped on the closed window and she mindlessly reached to open it. It was a small, grey one which she recognized as belonging to Ginny. The note from the owl simply said:

Diagon Alley! Ten o'clock!

Hermione groaned and looked at the clock. It was nine thirty-five. After taking a fatally slow thirty seconds, Hermione looked down at her oversized polka-dot pajamas. If only she could get a book and curl up in bed. But no. Normally, on their girls' days, Ginny was very intent on shopping. Now that Ginny was engaged, Hermione suspected the shopping drive would be escalated.

She sighed, set the parchment on top of the pile of mail from yesterday, and turned towards the coffee pot, accidentally knocking said pile over the edge. Letting out a few choice words she had picked up from Ron, she bent to scoop up the pile, taking notice of yesterday's Daily Prophet.

The moving picture on the front cover was of a handsome blonde man. The picture turned to look at Hermione and smiled. She dropped the paper back on the counter without another thought. Stealing her eyes back at it, she read the headline and was intrigued:

The Malfoy Heir: Off one market and on to another!

By Rita Skeeter

The stunning if brash war hero, Mr. Draco L. Malfoy, announced yesterday that he would be taking the reigns of his family's vast business dealings in the coming month. Mr. Lucius Malfoy, the aged philanthropist, confirmed the announcement, standing at his son's side. This intriguing bit of business information is nothing when compared to the rumors abounding about Draco Malfoy's connection to the young Miss Asteria Greengrass, a lovely girl whose beauty shone as she met with yours truly.

As we sat down to chat, Miss Greengrass offered me refreshment and made me perfectly comfortable in her family's beautiful home. This talented and gorgeous writer could not have expected a more gracious welcome. Miss Greengrass was more than happy to share about her life, and soon we got to the subject at hand.

"I met Draco before school, you see. Most witches and wizards meet at Hogwarts, as the best families do not typically go to any institution before then. I was, of course, privately tutored before Hogwarts. But of course, I met Draco because our families are so intimate. I believe we were in the cradle when first introduced.

You see, my father is particularly close to Mrs. Malfoy, they were childhood friends, and it was always their dearest hope that Draco and I would be close. Luckily, we were."

That was such a charming story that I asked Miss Greengrass to continue telling of their Hogwarts days. She informed me that they were both instantly sorted into the noble Slytherin House. In the years to come, they would have not classes together, being several years apart, but would enjoy each other's company at all Slytherin house events. She revealed that Draco was particularly kind and chivalrous, aiding her in her schoolwork over the years. They maintained the same group of close friends through the years, many of whom they are still close to today, including Gregory Goyle, Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini, all whom are also currently wildly successful.

When asked about the war, Miss Greengrass quipped, "I'll admit Draco was much more involved than I. He fought and eventually helped defeat You-Know-Who with Harry Potter. I myself stayed behind to ensure the safety of my younger classmates."

What a little hero! Miss Greengrass is obviously quite a catch. When I asked her of the rumored engagement, she smiled and told me that yes, they were dating, and gave me an all-too-knowing look that stated that, though the engagement is settled, it is not yet announced. Thus it is with great joy that we must look forward to the greatest wedding of the century, as the first of our young war heroes gets married!

Mr. Malfoy declined comment on his personal life when inquired after our interview with his betrothed, but instead stated that he was "focusing on the businesses he was taking over," which, among many investments, include an advisory position to the Minister of Magic, a board position at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, and a significant investment in Flourish and Blott's. It is also rumored that Mr. Malfoy will expand his business ventures to the muggle realm in the next few years to create goodwill for his family name. If that's the case, Miss Greengrass will likely find herself with a very busy, but charming and noble husband.

Hermione closed her eyes for a second, pushed the paper aside, and went to get dressed for a day of shopping. Hermione arrived at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor just before ten. Ginny was already waiting and chatting to an aging Florean about the most recent news. Ginny smiled as Hermione approached, and Florean excused himself.

"Hemione! I'm glad you got here first!"

"Oh? Why's that?" she asked as she hugged her friend.

"Because asking you to be my maid of honor in front of Luna is awkward. Not that she doesn't know, she was chatting about her role as a bridesmaid last night and even mentioned you as maid of honor, but still."

Hermione grinned from ear to ear, "Really? You want me to be your maid of honor?"

"Yes, of course. Who else would I ask?" Ginny said matter-of-factly. "Besides, you're the most sensible out of Fleur and Luna."

"Oh? Fleur is going to be a bridesmaid?"

Ginny made a face, "Mum said so."

Hermione shrugged, "She won't be that bad. Besides, she's sure to bring little Victoire with once in awhile, and she's adorable."

Ginny smiled at the thought of her niece. At that moment, Luna floated up to the two and looked at Hermione, "What's wrong Hermione? You look like you've seen a ghost." Ginny looked again at Hermione and caught the same discomfort Luna had sensed. Sometimes, Luna was more insightful than anyone else she knew.

"Oh, it's nothing. Look, there's Fleur at the end of the alley – let's go start looking at dresses! Madame Malkins' is just opening–"

Ginny cleared her throat and glared at Hermione, "You're not getting off that easy. If need be, you can explain it in front of Fleur, too."

Hermione pondered for a moment, but then came up with the perfect excuse and put on her biggest puppy dog lying face "It's just, you know that promotion I'm going for at Mungo's? Well, the interview is Tuesday, and it's with the whole board of trustees. I'm getting nervous is all."

An obvious flash of relief flew through Luna's eyes, but Ginny looked unconvinced. Luna smiled brightly, "You don't need to worry, Hermione. You're going to do wonderfully." Ginny pursed her lips, and Hermione knew talking would occur later, but for the moment, an excited Fleur approached them, and the shopping trip had begun.

Ginny followed Hermione back to her house after the trip, still intent on figuring out what was sincerely bugging her. As Hermione fluttered around the kitchen, starting dinner, Ginny sat on her kitchen table, looking around the room and chatting about the dresses they had looked at that day.

Finally the paper on the counter caught Ginny's eye – as did the picture of Draco Malfoy. As Hermione's back was turned, Ginny picked up the paper and skimmed through the article.

"This is why you're upset, isn't it?" Ginny asked, pointing to the paper. Hermione looked at the paper, then up at Ginny, and said nothing. "You know Rita Skeeter's full of it, right?" Ginny asked her friend, "She builds off rumors and lies. The chance that Greengrass – the little snip she calls a war hero," Hermione scoffed at this, "is actually engaged to Draco is slim."

Hermione sighed. "Do you remember when Greengrass ran out on the Battle of Hogwarts with that horrid sister of hers?"

Ginny nodded. "As I was saying, Skeeter's not a good source. The fact that her interview was with Greengrass, who's unreliable to begin with, means the article is not at all credible."

Hermione shrugged, "Regardless, it has no effect on me." Ginny eyed her suspiciously, but finally gave up and looked back down at the article. It was then that she noticed the last paragraph, where Draco Malfoy's new positions were listed.

"Who are you interviewing with this Tuesday, again?" Ginny asked, still looking down at the article.

"Healer Aaderon will be there, but St. Mungo's Board of Trustees will really be interviewing me. The Healers already know me and my work. Why do you ask?"

"Curious. Now let me help you with dinner."

The next Monday found that Hermione returned to work with renewed vigor. If she was going to get the promotion, she would have to do double time on her rounds today and pull off a spectacular performance tomorrow. She was at the hospital earlier than usual, in her lime green robes and looking through charts before even the Healer-In-Charge was present. It was Anthony Goldstein who was the next Healer present, and he came up to go through the second half of the charts Hermione held.

"So I hear there was a cauldron explosion of a mis-made Unctuous Unction potion that resulted in all of Ward 32 being filled with patients that alternately hate and love the potion-maker, including himself."

Hermione chuckled, "Looks like a busy day for them, then. Shouldn't be too bad for them to cure though, right? Healer Clearwater is usually pretty good at countering those kinds of effects."

"Yeah, probably. But looking at these charts, it looks pretty dead up here today." Anthony leaned back against the counter.

Hermione nodded in response. "Just a few in and out of Ward 45 today. We're releasing the Sectumsempra patients now that the blood replenishing potion has been working, and the man burned from the gemino curse since the skin graft is done. There haven't been any newly admitted patients to Ward 42."

"Which, of course leaves us with the Janis Thickey Ward. I assumed the Trainee Healers are already at their usual check-ups?"

"Yes," replied Hermione, "Broderick and Anges have had their breakfast already, and the Longbottoms are being served as we speak. I was planning on checking in on the Children's Ward."

"I guess that means my job is to discharge all of those in Ward 45 then?"

"Yep." Hermione shot him a smile.

Anthony sighed, "I supposed this is what happens when you only have two residents, a handful of trainees, and a Healer-In-Charge who is going to retire at the end of the month in your department. Promise me that when you get the promotion, you'll make them hire at least one other full-time staff member."

Hermione scoffed, "First, I don't know that I'm going to get it. And, you're forgetting about the three senior healers we have. You're not overworked."

"But when the senior healers are permanently in Wards 42, 46 and 49, they don't count."

"Just because they specialize in trauma, or pediatrics, or permanent spell damage doesn't make them less useful, just less versatile. Besides, we have a trainee per ward, which is far more than any other floor. Not to mention the research staff."

"It's because they all think you're so pretty that they stay in this department," Anthony winked at her and turned to walk towards Ward 45. Hermione shrugged off the comment and headed towards the Children's Ward.


	4. Chapter 3: The Interview

Chapter Three: The Interview

Hermione was at the office building a quarter of an hour before her scheduled interview. The tall, stately building was on the end of Licorpãnte Street and rose higher than the Flourish and Blott's at the other end of it. It consisted of older architecture and the white marble pillars were reminiscent of Gringotts in Diagon Alley. This building was an office building – the lobby inside opened to multiple gold lifts which led to floors devoted to different wizarding businesses and institutions.

Hermione walked directly across the lobby to await a lift. She was very clean-cut today, choosing to wear a fitted lilac blouse and black skirt with heels rather than her healers' robes. Her usually wild hair was pinned up and back in an elegant twist and pearl drops hung from her earlobes. Minimal make-up was on her face, though a classic red lipstick shown. She held a black portfolio in her right arm, a black purse from her left. She had to admit that looking good, though muggle, made her much more confident than anything else could.

The paperwork they had asked to her fill out was tucked safely in the portfolio, as was her wand. The two references, one from Professor McGonagall, the other from the healer who had trained her, were in envelopes on the other side of the portfolio. If she wasn't ready now, she never would be.

The bell dinged and the golden lift opened in front of her. With two other witches and a wizard, she entered the lift to stand at its back. After asking the witch in front of her to press the indicator for the medical floor, she leaned her head against the back of the lift and closed her eyes for a split second. As the grate to the lift began to close, she heard it falter, and then a baritone say, "Sorry about that. Just about missed the lift." She heard someone step into the lift and turn. Then the same voice said, with a smiling tone, "Good, someone has already indicated the medical floor. Can't be late for this meeting."

Hermione determinedly kept her eyes closed as the lift reached the next floor and a cool female voice announced "Second Floor. Flourish and Blott's business division." Hearing those in front of her move out of the lift, she finally opened her eyes to see a familiar man in front of her.

He was taller than she remembered; she had scarcely seen him since the war, though she had heard of his accomplishments. His back was to her, and he obviously hadn't seen her when he had entered the lift. His blonde hair was still blonde – white blonde, to be exact. And she could just imagine the smirk on the other side. He was dressed as a businessman, in suit and tie, and he was incredibly professional looking.

More now than ever was she glad that she looked good. Even if she only had to face him in the lift, it was better that she looked fabulous. Though they were not on particularly bad terms, it was better to look good when exes were around. At least, that's a mode of thought prevalent to most females.

As the lift arrived at the medical floor and the cool voice announced it, Hermione raised her head, chin high in the air, and walked out of the lift in front of Draco Malfoy, turning right to walk down the hallway and her interview with one goal on her mind: to get that promotion.

It's true that Draco hadn't noticed Hermione when he entered the lift, more due to the fact that she was behind several other people than his lack of attention. He noticed her on her way out, however. She had a swing to her step and a sense of confidence. This caught his attention more than even how she looked, which in a word, was stunning; her walk was sure and determined, but not flaunting. He smirked a bit as he exited the lift behind her, letting her get ahead. He hadn't seen her since the last days of the war, but some people didn't change much. She was one of them.

The sight of her walking away from him, head held proudly in the air, brought back old memories buried years away, before the peaceful times, before even the war. The amount of times she had walked away like this was countless. It was as if she held esteem in walking away from him, whether truly away from him or towards other goals. One in particular stood out. It had been a clear, moonlit night, until she had turned heel to return to her muggle heritage, causing the sky to open wide with rain. A slightly reminiscent look on his face, he had halted in the hallway for a moment, thinking. Realizing his pause, he shook his head, shook off the old memories, and walked forward into the exact same conference room which Miss Granger had just entered.

The other four board members and the chief Healer of St. Mungo's were already in the room, most seated, but two milling around getting cups of water. Draco smiled as he entered, and nodded his head in the direction of the board members.

"Mr. Parrol, Mr. Wimple. Mrs. Kinanne. And Sir Radford." He went over to the Chief Healer and extended a hand, saying with ease, "It's good to see you again, Healer Aaderon."

The stately man smiled at Draco, "And you Mister Malfoy. Except this time the circumstances are much more. . . ah, peaceful."

"Yes they are," Draco smiled at this, remembering his last hospital visit, after the Battle of Hogwarts. He then turned to Hermione, who was seated at the end of the table, saying in an even voice, "Hello Hermione."

Hermione met his grey eyes with her brown ones and stood up to extend her hand, "Good morning, Mister Malfoy." Draco was visibly shaken by the formality of the greeting, but hid it quickly as Radford began the proceedings and motioned for the two young people to take their seats.

The board meetings lasted the better part of the morning. Hermione was, by far, the most qualified candidate for the position, as well as the most eloquent, but formality had to still be observed, as two other candidates were interviewed after she departed.

The first, a middle-aged French Healer, was as riveting as four snores and kept going on about his medical accomplishments at something-or-other regional hospital in the south of France. He was balding and slightly overweight, but did have a good record of successful surgeries, both traditional and innovative. He had, after all, been practicing spell reversal medicine for several decades.

The man after him was a tiny, sharp creature with coal black hair and ears like an elf. He had a thick accent, and originated from the far north. He was far pleased with himself, a student of Durmstrang, as he had mentioned multiple times as if it mattered. He was brilliant, so the ego was probably justified, but his specialty was in creature incidents, not spell reversal.

Lunchtime found Draco waltzing down to the cafeteria on the first floor of the building, in search of something edible. That was the one thing about moving out of the Manor after graduation – no one to cook for him. Not to mention the near lack of kitchen in his small flat. Contrary to the popular belief that he lived on the family money, Draco had worked to rebuild the ministry for the last five years and saved up every penny that he lived on.

His small, initially dingy flat in inner London was proof of that. Of course, he had thoroughly scourgified it upon signing the lease, but nothing would change it that much. Consisting of two rooms – his bedroom and the living area – the kitchen area was a little over a square meter in size squashed into the corner, next to the table and chairs at one end of the living room.

His mother and sister had been thoroughly concerned for him when he got the place, thinking it was some sort of mental breakdown. The truth was, after his experience in the war, he needed to explore life a bit. His short duration as a very young, initiated death eater, revealed the true nature of the Dark Lord's campaign. Of course, by the time he figured out that pure blood was not all it was cracked up to be, he and his parents were in far too deep. Draco's attempts on Dumbledore's life had been enough to remove him from Potter's side of the war for several years.

It had been in the last hours of the Battle of Hogwarts where Draco had finally determined where his loyalties lie. Though he had not done anything particularly heroic, in fact had been rescued by Potter himself multiple times, he had stood with his family against the Dark Lord's ideal for the end. In the weeks to follow, the press had labeled him a 'hero' and 'good,' terms which he was not sure truly applied to him; but rather to Potter and his friends.

It was at the beginning of this new, peaceful age that Draco had decided to step outside of the world and ideals he had grown up in and see for himself what it was like to work for and alongside those different from him. It had been quite a ride, and unbeknownst to him, he had grown up quite a bit in the interim. His decision to finally take up the family businesses had come only in this last year and he finally felt he might have a shot at doing it right. He seemed to be holding his own as his first day as a board member for St. Mungo's, smiling as he sat down with his tray to peer around the room. And at the end of this first day, he would do everything he could to make sure Miss Granger got the healer position she had worked so hard for.

Hermione returned home around lunchtime and was just sitting down to her meal and a book when there was a knock on the door. Curious as to who could be calling in the middle of the day, she placed a bookmark on her page and went to open the door. She was almost instantly engulfed in a hug and a squeal, only seeing the figure of a petite woman with long brown hair. After about a minute of being squeezed by the girl, Hermione said, "Anna. Stop."

Hermione's little sister smiled impishly and let go of her, stepping back a bit while pulling off her blue knit mittens. Anna began walking around the entrance, peering into the rooms on either side, finally drifting behind Hermione, inspecting everything.

"Charming house. Could tell it was yours the instant I entered the neighborhood." Anna meandered back behind the stairs to the kitchen area and grinned as she saw the book and plate on the table. "Do you do anything except read?" Not waiting for an answer, she went to the mantle and began to inspect the photographs. After concluding they were of Hermione's friends and muggle family she turned back to Hermione, put a finger to her chin in a thoughtful manner, pursed her lips and said, "What, no boy?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Anna, why are you here?" Anna bounced on her feet for a second, as if considering something. "Anna?"

"Well, you see, I'm back from traveling around Europe. I was painting, mostly. And some photographs. Well, I'm back now."

Hermione crossed her arms and waited for Anna to explain further. Anna looked around the room again, then continued, "Well, I thought it might be a good idea, since I'm done with Hogwarts, to expand my studies. I was thinking of taking some muggle art classes here."

Hermione, who could see where this was going, pointed to the kitchen chair and commanded, "Sit." Anna smiled meekly and obediently sat. Hermione poured her a cup of tea from the pot on the stove, and then sat down opposite her.

"Now, what is this really about? You've always had your tricks, but I never pinned you for one that would run away from home."

"I – " Anna began, but was cutoff by Hermione.

"That was your plan, wasn't it? After traveling for the year, instead of returning to Lane Mansion, where you belong, you were going to beg your older sister to take you in so you could 'study' for an indefinite period of time. Am I right?"

Anna, who now looked slightly exasperated, turned to face the wall as she said, "Yes! Okay!" She turned back to Hermione to finish her rant, "I can't go back there right now! I've been gone for seven years at Hogwarts, then another studying abroad with friends and other relatives, and I just can't! They're not going to let me get my own place, they say that a 'young woman of family and fortune cannot live on her own.' And, they're imposing new rules, did you know that? Apparently I'm too 'wild' for them, because goodness forbid I go meet my friends without telling them! I'm eighteen, for goodness' sake! And. . . and mum, she's arranging. . . oh I don't know Hermione! I just hoped that if I came to live with you, they would stop it, because you're responsible and—"

"The daughter they disowned when she chose her muggle heritage. Go on."

Anna paused in her rant and searched Hermione's face. "You know that's not true. Sure, mum was upset, but she wouldn't. . . " Hermione looked at Anna, and she stopped talking. It was only after a few minutes of quiet that Anna said, in a far-too-calm voice, "She's arranging a marriage for me, you know."


	5. Chapter 4: The Cafe

Chapter 4: The Café

The starlit skies through the glass windowpanes let Draco know that it was late into the evening. The board of trustees had been discussing their candidates for hours on end and could not come to a consensus. What Draco had thought was an obvious choice was not to the other board members; Radford in particular was annoying him. He had stated more than once that, "Miss Granger was not and will never be fit for such a position of authority and should not have gotten this far in the application process," but could not give concrete reasons why. He instead rattled on about the pluses of balding man's surgeries, citing one in particular over and over, without giving any other examples. He would then further explain that even though the Durmstrang-educated man was not ideal, he would be better than Miss Granger.

After this repeated speech, Mrs. Kinanne would wave her hands in the air and hush Radford, stating that this needed to be discussed peacefully, without degrading any of the candidates. She would then broadly smile a toothy grin and turn to the other members, asking their opinions of Miss Granger. The two other men on the board would shift uncomfortably and mumble comments about the other two candidates as good choices, while Healer Aaderon would vehemently defend 'Healer Granger' as the best of the best. Unfortunately, whenever Draco tried to add concrete reasons to this, Radford would interrupt him. They had been cycling like this for most of the evening.

They had, of course, contacted each of the candidate's references by floo that afternoon. Both Professor McGonagall and the Healer whom Hermione had listed had given her spectacular recommendations, commenting on her perseverance and compassion. The references for the French Healer were solid, if not outstanding, and stated his wish to serve the public and innovation in medical techniques. Those for the third candidate were sketchy at best, to the point of looking suspiciously like the candidate himself.

As Radford explained for the thirtieth time that Miss Granger was not a good candidate, Draco doodled on the paper in front of him. As Radford concluded his thought, Draco broke in, "Sir, can you explain to me which qualities Miss Granger either possesses – or lacks – that would inherently make her insufficient for the position of Healer-In-Charge of the department of spell damage at St. Mungo's Hospital?"

Radford glared at Draco and replied, "As I just explained, Mister Malfoy, her limited exposure to wizarding culture and her natural disposition do not classify her as able to properly interact with all patients anticipated in the division."

Draco smirked, "Sir, I'm curious, though your bigoted comments are veiled, are you referring to the fact that Miss Granger is both muggleborn and a woman?"

Radford turned beet red and refused to answer. Healer Aaderon took this moment to interject, "I do not know if that is indeed to what Sir Radford is referring to or not, though it is obvious he will not be accepting Miss Granger –" as he continued, he started down each of the other board members, "—and I have to make it decisively clear that from the moment Miss Granger walked into St. Mungo's, I have earmarked her as my personal successor."

Looks of astonishment flew across the faces of those in the room. The fact that the young Miss Granger was set up to eventually take the role of Chief Healer at St. Mungo's was news to everyone in the room. Healer Aaderon had been not planning on making this knowledge publically known for another decade or so, much closer to his retirement, but drastic times called for drastic measures. If the board would not accept Miss Granger in the position of a departmental Healer-In-Charge, they certainly would not acquiesce to her further promotion in the future, despite his unexpected ally in their youngest member.

Mrs. Kinanne waved her hands around and said, "That is all very well, but we must determine who is to fill the Healer-In-Charge slot before we are all dead. I say, that at a minimum, that we narrow the list down to two candidates."

"Miss Granger should go," Radford clipped

Draco narrowed his eyes, "I disagree."

"Our friend from Durmstrang should go," one of the quieter members of the board suggested in an even tone, "Neither faction this evening particularly likes him, and his references were poor."

A pause, then Radford nodded. "Fine. But I suggest we take a short break before returning to discuss the other two." The board broke up, and Draco went out of the room. He was followed by Radford, who was not in a good mood. As soon as the door closed, Draco found himself being pulled aside by Radford.

"Look here, young man. Your father may have been an exceptional board member, but you are not him. Your questioning of my authority and validity in front of the rest of the board—"

"Was entirely justified seeing that you have no concrete, logical proof that Miss Granger is not qualified for the position of Healer-In-Charge—"

Radford hissed at him. "You may have a high opinion of Miss Granger from your school days, but you do not yet comprehend how the real world functions. Nor are you qualified to serve on the executive board of the finest wizarding hospital in Europe."

"Oh? And what qualities do I lack?"

"You have no experience in medicine or the healing arts, no training, and no exposure to the inner workings of the hospital itself." Radford was grinning.

"And quite obviously you have those qualifications, seeing as you trained as a healer for. . . oh wait, I'm forgetting. You didn't train as a healer, have never been on a medical mission, and had gone to St. Mungo's once in your life; but took the position on the board six years ago when there was a vacancy and you made a sizable donation. You and I are evenly match in qualifications, Sir."

Radford glared at Draco again, then said, voice dripping with oil, "Yes, well at least I don't chose Healers-In-Charge based on personal relationships."

Draco's eyes flashed, "Your meaning escapes me, Sir."

"I'm referring to the non-professional relationship between yourself and Miss Granger. Do you deny that such a relationship, at one time existed?"

"That's none of your business."

"It is when it may cloud your judgment in the instance of important business decisions. I had hoped, in light of the situation, that your father would have waited to pass the family businesses off to you—"

"Miss Granger and I have been nothing except acquaintances since before the war. You have no reason to suspect partiality on my part."

"Oh, but I do, if the way that you looked at her this morning was any indication."

"Sir, you cross the line of acceptable commentary. I am engaged to another witch, to be married within the year, and the relationship between myself and Miss Granger is, when present, entirely professional, I assure you."

Radford raised an eyebrow at this, but at that moment, Healer Aaderon opened to door and inquired as to if they would be concluding the meeting this evening. The men filed back in and the talks resumed.

Hermione was already downstairs, reading at the kitchen table, the next morning when a sleepy Anna came down. A half-awake Anna sat down across from Hermione and proceeded to lay first her arms and then her head on the table, closing her eyes. Hermione smiled at her sleepy sister and rapped her on the head with her knuckles.

"Ow!" Anna opened her eyes and lifted her head onto her hands. "What was that for?"

"Inability to stay awake. Breakfast is on the counter," Hermione got up and moved to get her bag, "I've got to get to work, but we'll chat again tonight and figure out what you're going to do."

"Can't I walk down to the University and sign up for classes?" Anna pleaded. She was silenced by a look from Hermione. "Not yet."

"But I don't want to go home and be reigned in by mother…"

"Speaking of your mother, you need to write her and tell her where you are. Today."

"But she'll come storming in and take me back to Lane Mansion! And then I'll never be able to step foot outside again!"

"Even though your mother and I are not on good terms, I will not be held responsible for 'taking you,' 'hiding you,' or any other such nonsense. You will owl her today, say that you are visiting me, that you are safe and most likely enrolling at the local University to broaden your education. I won't have her tearing up the countryside looking for you."

Anna sighed and finally gave the slightest of nods. "But if I owl her today, can I go down to the University later and register for classes?" Hermione smiled at her, acquiescing, and gave her a quick hug, then was out the door on the way to work. Anna looked around the quiet room in the cottage and made her mind up in a split second: she was going to explore the town. Twenty minutes later, she was strolling down the street in her blue jacket.

For a small town, it was full of life. The center of town abutted the University and was a collection of mis-matched shops around a small park. Unlike the busyness of London, where every witch and wizard was hurrying on their way, determined to get tasks accomplished, people here meandered, enjoying the pretty autumn day. They stopped to talk, to browse, and bright smiles lit the faces of people who saw a friend across the way. Anna noted that the appearance was entirely muggle, but spotted at least one wizard hiding a wand in his sleeve. She smiled at this, knowing Hermione would choose a half-muggle, half-wizarding town to settle in.

Scanning the shops – a bookstore, a fashion boutique, a grocer – settled on a small café, and walked into it. The place was buzzing with chatter, filled with colorful people obviously here for more than a cup of coffee. As Anna let the door swing behind her, she saw an elderly man behind the counter placing a chocolate croissant in a small bag, handing it to the young man across from him. Anna saw the pain au chocolat and made a beeline for the counter, coming just as the young man turned and walked to a small, unoccupied table. He sat down to open his books whilst Anna smiled at the man behind the counter.

"What can I do for you, young lady?" The elderly man had shock-white hair and a toothy grin that could make anyone smile. His manner was easy and unassuming.

"A chocolate croissant, please, and a cup of coffee."

A frown crossed the man's eyebrows, "I'm afraid young mister Smith took the last chocolate croissant. Any way I can substitute it?"

Anna made a pouty face, "No, that's okay, I'll just have the coffee." She pulled up a stool to the bar as the man put a mug in front of her and poured coffee from the pitcher for her. Anna smelled the scent of coffee and relaxed a bit, taking a sip. She turned her head to look in the direction of the last chocolate croissant. It was sitting, untouched, on the table next to the rather cute young man, Anna realized. He was of average height, but slender, with dark brown hair that was a bit messy. He was dressed simply in jeans and a T-shirt and his blue eyes were focused on the book in front of him.

"You're not from around here, are you?" the café owner had turned back to Anna. She smiled and turned to face him.

"No sir. Just moved in, actually."

The old man smiled, "I figured as much. I know most of the young people who come in and out in this small town. Where are you staying?"

"With my sister, for the term. I don't suppose you know Hermione Granger?"

"Know her! Of course I know her. Very nice girl, that one. Works very hard and makes sure to stop by at least once a week to say hello. You're her sister, then?"

"Yes, younger by five years."

"Isn't that just amazing then. Not last week, she was in here telling me about your travels around the world. All over Europe for some grand art tour, right? Now, I know she mentioned your name. . . no, don't tell me. Anya. No, that's not right. It's Anna, isn't it?"

Anna gave a broad smile, "Yes sir. Anna Lane."

"Well it's good to meet you Miss Anna. I'm Howie Share, owner of this place. I hope you'll stop by often to say hello. You young folk have the best stories to tell. And I promise you we'll have a chocolate croissant for you next time." He glanced at the table where the young man sat, whose eyes were momentarily lingering in their direction. He nodded to Howie and smiled at Anna, then closed his book and came up to the counter. The young man turned to Anna and extended a hand, which Anna took to shake.

"I couldn't help overhear—"

"You were eavesdropping, because you thought our new Miss Anna here is a catch. Watch out for this one, Miss Anna. He's trouble," and with a smile, Howie turned to greet another customer."

Anna grinned at the stranger, and said, "You 'happened to overhear,' sir?"

The young man, who was slightly less suave than he had been a minute ago, grinned a foolish grin and said, "I heard Howie say you're new to our town. Thought I'd introduced myself."

"Very neighborly of you," Anna remarked, "So then, if you're going to introduce yourself, what's your name?"

The young man didn't quite blush, but a bit of color rose in his cheeks. "Trent Smith. And I take it you're Anna Granger?"

Anna rolled her eyes, "My surname's Lane, actually. But close enough. You know Hermione then?"

"She's an acquaintance," he paused for a second, as if waiting from a quip from the girl in front of him, then commented, "Well, then, Miss Lane, it was a pleasure meeting you. I, however, must be off to class."

Trent scooped up his book and headed out the front door, leaving Anna standing there slightly irked. She turned back towards the counter and saw a little paper bag sitting there, complete with an uneaten chocolate croissant inside. Picking up the bag, she ran out of the café quickly and scanned the square, looking for him. He was nowhere in sight. Thinking this quite an impossibility, since he had left scarcely thirty seconds before, she slowly walked back into the café to sit down and sip her coffee.

She looked quizzically up and Howie and asked, "He left in a hurry, but why did he leave his chocolate croissant?"

Howie smiled a knowing smile at her, of which Anna caught no hint, and turned to work on the dishes. Anna shrugged, finishing her coffee along with the chocolate croissant.


	6. Chapter 5: The Conversation

**Chapter Five: The Conversation**

The end of the week came swiftly. Anna enrolled at the University, and Hermione continued work as normal, waiting every day to hear about the position of Healer-In-Chief. Ginny commandeered Hermione one evening to look at dresses again, but other than that the life of the two sisters was quiet.

Friday night was a different matter entirely. Hemione arrived at Harry's early, with Anna in tow. Or, at least what she thought was early. Ginny and the entire Weasley clan had preceded her, and the whole flat was filled with the smells of delicious food and the sounds of music. Tonight was Harry and Ginny's engagement party, and everyone was dressed in their finest. Even Hermione and Anna had cleaned up, in black dresses and heels they looked almost matching. As soon as Hermione jumped in to help in the kitchen, the rest of the guests started arriving.

Not only Luna and Neville, but nearly everyone of Harry's and Ginny's acquaintance gradually appeared. Andromena Tonks, along with little Teddy, were two of the first, and Harry's godson was ecstatic to see him; Teddy's grand jump onto Harry's back nearly caused the hero to fall over, but certainly made his fiancée laugh. The Weasleys – Molly, Arthur, Bill, Fleur and Vitoirie, Charlie, George with Angelina, and Ron – had of course been there before Hermione and were as lively as ever, telling stories, pulling pranks and helping with everything. Their schoolmates, including all of the remaining members of Dumbledore's Army – Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnagan, Lavendar Brown, Pavarti and Padma Patil to name just a few – came in proclaiming stories of their lives nowadays, ranging from dating dilemmas to business overseas. The rest of the Order of the Phoenix, including Kingsley, who had escaped from his Minister of Magic duties for one evening, and Hagrid, who had burns from a new batch of blast-ended skrewts, all trickled in. Added to this were Ginny's teammates from the Holyhead Harpies, and Harry's fellow Aurors, making it a large party indeed.

About an hour after Hermione had arrived, the whole party was inside, eating, drinking, laughing, and the few small children ran around the living room. Hermione was talking to her old dormmates, Pavarti and Lavendar, when there was a knock on the front door. Hermione paused Lavendar's list of wonderful qualities present in her boyfriend to look quizzically at Harry and Ginny. Ginny shrugged, and Harry made his way to the front hall. Hermione, dismissing it, turned back to hear the other seventy-eight reasons why Lavendar's current boyfriend was sure to be the one.

Draco knew he was late. He had known he would be late when the clock struck six and he was still at his desk working through the first of the sales reports from Flourish and Blotts'. It was a blessing for him in that most of his new positions were all located in the same building; being that the wizarding world of London only needed one main office building. Now, two hours later he set the last of the reports on his desk and leaned back in his desk chair. He looked up at the clock and groaned. Contemplating the awaiting stack of papers on his desk from the Ministry, he make a snap decision, scooped them up, placed them in his briefcase and headed out of the small, dimly lit room.

Apparating back to his small flat, he dropped his briefcase on the counter and traded it for a bottle of wine. Glancing at the clock, he decided he didn't have the time to fuss and grabbed an emerald green button-down from his closet. Quickly changing out of his business attire and into the new outfit, he glanced in the mirror on his way out the door and shook his head at the tired expression. He couldn't show up to Harry Potter's engagement party half dead. He tussled his hair, forced a smile on his face, and apparated to Potter's front doorstep.

About a minute after his knock, the door opened to reveal Harry Potter himself. Draco cleared his throat and offered Harry the bottle of wine. Harry looked at Draco with an entertained sparkle in his eye. "You look over-worked, Malfoy."

Draco smirked a bit at Harry, and said, "And you look like a man who can't stop smiling. Congratulations, Potter." Harry shrugged, and opened the door to let Draco in. "Thanks for coming. Even if you're late."

"I'm hard put to say no to a man who saved my life multiple times. Although I don't know why you want me at your predominantly Gryffindor party." Harry just smiled, and went to help Angelina and George distribute the butterbeer, leaving Draco standing near the doorway.

"Draco Malfoy! I haven't seen you in ages!" Draco cringed at the call from the tall, dark-haired man who was making his way through the crowd.

"Anthony. Good to see you." Draco extended a hand, which Anthony shook firmly.

"And you. I hear you're making the transition onto the board for St. Mungo's?"

"Yes, among other business endeavors."

"Not as easy as it seems, is it?" Anthony laughed, "I know that just the logistics of the Spell Damage division are incredible, I can't imagine being a main investor in the entire place. Give me a clinical case any day, I say, or even send me to aid in the research laboratory, but on days when I have to manage administration for our four wards, I want to hand it off."

"Well, I would agree with you," Draco smirked, "But I'm sure that in my case the clinical work would be much trickier, since I've never had the training. The administration part, however, is something I understand."

"Really? I hadn't realized you've had a hand in non-profit organizations before. A philanthropist like your father, then?"

Draco grimaced, "Not quite. Not exactly the same… ah, motives. I worked with a medical mission group based out of Geneva for about a year, but my work was on the human resources floor, working on both hiring and determining which personal would be sent where."

"Is that where you disappeared to after school? I remember I period of time where none of our class heard from you until you returned to aid in reforming the Ministry under Kingsley here," he nodded in the man's direction.

"Yes, yes. That was where I disappeared to. Experience of a lifetime, and a refuge after the events of the war."

Anthony was silent for a second, then changed the topic from the uncomfortable subject, "So when do you officially start your board work?"

"Last Tuesday," Draco grinned, "That was an interesting day."

"Oh?" Anthony made a connection, "That was the day the board was interviewing candidates for our Healer-In-Charge of Spell Damage, right?"

"Yes, yes it was."

"Well, Hermione failed to mention that," Anthony saw Hermione passing to the kitchen and stopped her with a, "Hermione! Come chat about St. Mungo's with us!"

Hermione glanced briefly around the room, as if looked to find an escape route, but then plastered a smile on her face and walked over the two men, her eyes going up to Anthony's and her voice dripping with satire "Now really, Anthony, do we have to discuss work this evening? I was having such a wonderful time catching up with old friends."

Anthony laughed, but before he could retort, Draco intervened, "No greeting for me, Miss Granger?"

Hermione inclined her head briefly towards Draco, "Good evening, Mister Malfoy. I trust you're having a good time."

"I am. The conversation is riveting," Draco was smirking, but Hermione remained as cool as ice. It was the smiling Anthony who continued the conversation.

"Well, Draco, I think that if you're to be a true board member at St. Mungo's, that Hermione here should let you know what lines of research and innovation we have started in our laboratories this past year. She at least can explain them far better than me," he grinned a little guiltily, "I always use scientific terms which no normal wizard can understand."

Hermione smiled at this, "It is true, he does that. I can explain our main lines of research if you would like, Mister Malfoy."

Draco's eyes met Hermione's and locked for a moment, "I would appreciate that, Hermione. I must confess that the reviews which were placed on my desk have not yet been read. But, I feel that this evening is one that should be spent out of the office." He glanced towards Harry and Ginny, who were arm in arm, talking to several of the Hollyhead Harpies, "Please excuse me while I congratulate the bride-to-be" he nodded to Anthony and Hermione, and parted through the crowd.

"That was odd," stated Anthony, who then turned to Hermione, "I suppose I should have asked him about your promotion, unless you've heard and haven't told me."

Hermione wore a puzzled expression, "No, I haven't heard all this week. But I do think I'll wait for the official letter to arrive, either way. I'd rather not ask Malfoy at present."

"I'm sure you'll hear soon," Anthony squeezed her shoulder, and excused himself to get another butterbeer, leaving her standing on the edge of the crowd sipping her glass of wine quietly. She had a grand total of thirty seconds of peace before a rather tipsy Lavendar bounded upon her, followed by the Patil twins.

"Oh Hermione! Was that Anthony Goldstein? I haven't seen him since our practices with _Dumbledore's Army_" she giggled and started to lose her balance. Padma Patil rolled her eyes and steadied the girl with a hand on her shoulder.

"Yes, that's him," Hermione smiled, "He's my co-worker at St. Mungo's."

"He's a healer! Is he single?" Lavendar demanded of Hermione.

"Lavendar, aren't you dating…"

"Is he single?" Lavender's eyes were wide and her face was about an inch from Hermione's. She was incredibly demanding. Hermione was torn between being disgusted and bursting out laughing. She refrained from both and said, with an amused tone, "Yes, he is." Lavendar turned on the spot and walked over to Anthony and taped him on the shoulder, proceeding to chat and flirt with the oblivious healer.

Pavarti sighed and rested an elbow on her twin's shoulder. "She always does that. It's a good thing her boyfriend isn't here this evening. He wouldn't be very happy." Pavarti looked and Padma and the two giggled when their eyes met. Padma turned to Hermione, "We never did ask you earlier Hermione, are you seeing anyone?"

Hermione smiled, "Not at the moment."

"Oh. That's alright, though," Pavarti said, obviously trying to comfort Hermione, but failing miserably, "You have time to meet someone, don't worry. You have time, my dear."

Hermione grimaced slightly, but Pavarti continued, "Oh we should set you up with someone of our acquaintance. What do you think, Padma?"

"Pavarti, the men of your acquaintance aren't smart enough for Hermione here. You'd have better luck looking around the guests from this party."

"Oh you are right. Let's look through the men here, I'm sure we can find someone. Right so. Over there's Dean Thomas. He's a catch. Tall, smart, even a Gryffindor like Hermione here."

"No no no. He's dating that American girl he met while abroad, has been for the last two years. Not a chance there. Besides, he and Ginny Weasley dated in our fifth year, remember? And we can't have Hermione date a friend's ex. It's against the rules of girl world. What about Terry Boot, look, over there, he's talking to Kingsley about a ministry issue. . ."

"He's too annoying. He's an insufferable know-it-all, always trying to one-up everyone around him. Don't you remember his disarming me outside of DA practices just to show he was the 'most dedicated' Ravenclaw there. Not to mention his beating me at every test. . . Why would anyone want to date him?"

"Oops. Just remembered, he and Katie Bell are dating. Look, see, she just came over and linked arms with him. Isn't she a news reporter now?"

"Well, she was always a bit weird after our sixth year, anyways. There's Zacharias Smith over there. Ew, wait, he hasn't aged well. He looks around forty instead of twenty-something. Maybe all that type A behavior and stress finally got to him." Padma sighed, "Maybe your acquaintances are a better bet after all." Pavarti grinned, but her gloating was cut short by Padma, "Wait! What about Mr. Malfoy?"

"Lucius Malfoy? Ew, he's ancient and married. Why would you suggest him?" Pavarti was thoroughly grossed out, shutting her eyes tight and shaking off the image.

"No," Padma rolled her eyes, and turned her sister's head so her gaze followed hers to the blonde talking the Harry and Ginny, "Draco Malfoy."

"I didn't even know he was here! Oh he _is_ good looking. But I thought he was seeing Asteria Greengrass? That's what that Skeeter article said. . ."

"One way to find out." Padma linked arms with her twin, and the two pranced across the room. Hermione leaned back against the wall behind her, for some reason wishing this night would end soon.

Draco was listening to Ginny detail the events of the Harpies' latest match when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around to see the Patil twins, arm in arm, with grins on their identical faces.

"Hello Draco," Padma said.

Draco raised an eyebrow, "Padma, Pavarti. Did you need me for something?"

The twins looked at each other and smiled, then looked at Draco. "We were wondering, you see, whether you are – ah – single. Or, rather, if Miss Skeeter wrote, dating a certain Asteria Greengrass. You see, we have a friend who may be interested, if you are, in fact, single."

Draco did not see Ginny's interest perk up behind him, but instead smirked at the girls in front of him, "I am sorry, but you must send my regrets to your friend. I am engaged elsewhere."

The twins gave a pair of pouty faces, and turned away, letting Draco hear the end of Ginny's quidditch accounts. Padma and Pavarti made their way back to Hermione to relay the sad news. Hermione looked relatively unaffected, and listened attentively to the twins' account of all the other gossip surrounding the people in the room. It was not long before Lavendar returned, just as tipsy, but with an account of Anthony as "nice, but too oblivious."

It was only several hours later that the crowd had thinned and the food had been eaten. The families, for the most part had left, as had the co-workers of the couple and many of the older generations. Left were Harry and Ginny's closest friends, and a few school mates. Even Anna had departed early, citing a need for sleep.

A rousing round of stories was being told in the living room, and everyone was roaring with laughter as Ron retold the adventures with the old flying Ford Angelia. Hermione, who had heard Harry and Ron recount these adventures more times than she could count, slipped out of the room and into the kitchen. The room was empty except for Draco Malfoy, who was pouring himself a drink. Hermione slipped past him to grab a glass from the cupboard.

"Tell me, does your ignoring me come from your tiredness, your determination to pour that glass of water, or your simply not wanting to talk to me?" Draco asked, slightly exasperated.

"I didn't think you were looking for conversation, intent on pouring your firewhiskey as you were," Hermione replied evenly. She paused, looked up at him, and asked, "I don't suppose you can tell me when the staff will hear about the new Healer-In-Charge of our division?"

"You just want to know if you got it," Draco accused. If she didn't know better, she could have swore there was a teasing aspect in that tone. Perhaps she had drunk too much, to be imagining those things.

"That will come or it won't. But a timeline would be nice, because the entire staff of the division is on edge, and not working as efficiently as they could be. Even the researchers, who are less effected by the position, have been chatting…"

"Monday morning," interrupted Draco, "although there may not be a long procession and golden announcement like your division seems to envision," he smirked a bit at this and the playful tone was evident in his every word.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but the procession our staff was envisioning was silver," she grinned.

"That's odd. I always pinned you as a maroon-and-gold witch. But, times change," Draco paused, and a silence stretched between the two of them that was not comfortable in the least. Draco broke it with an abrupt question. "How's your family been?"

"Well, Anna's living with me," Hermione said, and abruptly stopped, leaving another awkward pause.

"Oh. That must be interesting," Draco chose his wording carefully, rare lines passing his face and betraying concentration instead of easy conversation, "Phe never mentioned that."

"She moved in last week." Hermione said hastily, then after a second, "And how is Phoenixa?"

"Good. Married to a Parrol."

Hermione's eyes widened, and a squeak nearly escaped her, but she stopped it in time to simply say, "Oh." There was no doubt that both of them were thinking of the same night, six years ago, and the arranged marriage that had nearly taken place between them. Their eyes met for a second, but it was Hermione who looked away first. Draco broke the silence.

"And how are the Grangers? Still dentists, I presume?" He was all suave and smiles again, ignoring the awkward and strained conversation that had just passed.

Hermione smiled at the thought of her family, "Yes, of course. Their practice is doing well, but mum and dad are actually out to Australia for a month right now on holiday, celebrating ten years of their own practice and whatnot. Quite a well-deserved break, if you ask me. Mum wrote the other day to say the sunshine is marvelous, and the ocean stunning."

Draco smiled at the obvious adoration that shone through when Hermione talked of her family. "And what about little Johnny? I distinctly remember him being a fan of trading card games when I met him all those years ago."

Hermione laughed, "He's not very little anymore. He's 193 cm and towers over me. He's in secondary school right now and preparing to go to University in a few years, says he wants to go into politics, but mum will have nothing of it. He comes to visit on weekends, sometimes, you know. I expect he'll be around in the next few weeks, since it's been awhile."

"Johnny and Anna in the same house for a weekend? I feel like that may be as explosive as Anna and Phe." Draco was laughing

Hermione had a wicked expression on her face and said plainly, "And the common denominator between those two dynamic duos is…"

"Your sister." Draco finished, still grinning.

Hermione smiled up at him and met his eyes again, but just as she did, a loud, off key chorus of 'Weasley is Our King' began in the room behind her. Recognizing Harry's, Neville's and Dean Thomas' voices, she blushed slightly, and turned to leave.

Draco, without thinking, caught her just above the wrist to stop her leaving the room. He hastily dropped her arm as she turned back towards him, throwing him a questioning look. He took a quick breath and asked her, "Stay a minute, please." Hermione waited, looking at him expectantly. She thought there was a glimmer of something in his eyes, but in a split second, Draco changed back to the business man he had become, and said in a more formal tone, "Since we're going to be working together frequently from now on, I would like to make sure we can maintain a professional relationship regardless of what may have happened in the past."

Hermione's eyes flashed at this comment, and suddenly she was tall, straight and fiercely proud. "Mister Malfoy, I am twenty-two years old and have been working as a full healer for quite awhile now. I know how to maintain strictly business relationships with my hospital's board members regardless of differing beliefs, intertwined histories, or any other aspects. As to our specific history, six years is far more than enough time for a sixteen-year-old girl to move on, not to mention the fact that I was able to maintain my composure through the war despite our working together. Now if you'll excuse me, my friends asked me to aid in recounting several stories from those years. Rather than reminisce with an ex, you should be heading home to you fiancée." And she walked away from him again.

* * *

Author's Note: And so we have made it to chapter five! I am sorry it's taken me this long to leave a note for all of my faithful readers! I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your dedication, both old readers and new, to the world of _Moonlight_ and _Starless_. I certainly hope you have enjoyed the story thus far, because, at this point, I plan on updating once or twice a week until all 30 chapters of _Starlit_ are posted, with the help of my lovely beta, Flossey. Provided I don't get caught up re-reading the seventh book! Couldn't help myself after seeing the new trailer for the movies!

I have loved reading all of your reviews and hope to hear more!

~Liza Lew~


	7. Chapter 6: The Guest List

**Chapter Six: The Guest List**

Anna's first class began that next Monday at eight in the morning. What had possessed her to sign up for that particular class escaped her as she dragged herself out of the house. Instead of cooking breakfast with a very sleepy Hermione, she headed out the door at quarter to seven and decided to stop by the café she has visited upon first arriving. Howie grinned and waved as Anna entered, he was one of the few in the store who seemed fully awake.

Anna greeted him (and the coffee he gave her) cheerfully and giggled when she noticed him warming up a chocolate croissant without her even asking. Giving her thanks and monies as he handed her the bag, she turned around and managed to walk directly into Trent, spilling her coffee everywhere. Her eyes went wide and she swung between wanting to apologize profusely and giggle incessantly, and finally a half combination came out in the form of a horrified face and a bubbling "Sorry!"

After about ten second of looking at her with an angry face, Trent burst out laughing, and then was laughing with her, and he grabbed a wad of napkins from the countertop and gave half to her as they began to mops themselves off, his bellowing laughs mixing with her giggles. Finally, when the coffee was mostly gone, he asked her where she was off to at this hour of the morning, and she placed her head high, clutched her books, and replied, "Langston's art class in lecture hall three, on classic portrait painting. With _my _chocolate croissant."

Trent smiled, "I can't say I'm too familiar with the art professors, but I certainly know where lecture hall three is. Mind if I walk you over there? I may smell a bit like coffee, though." She raised an eyebrow at him and acquiesced. Within two minutes they were strolling along the campus, which was littered with fall leaves.

"So Miss Lane, I suppose you're an art student?" Trent asked with a hint of amused arrogance in his voice.

"Yes," replied Anna impishly, "And I suppose you aren't, Mr. Smith?"

A corner of Trent's mouth came up in the tiniest of smiles, and he replied, "Not unless biochemistry is an art."

"Oh. I see. You're a science major. You must have a superiority complex."

"No, of course not. I just know that science majors put in more work than all other majors combined," he was being satirical, and Anna knew it.

"Well, if that's the case, I don't know that I want to associate with you," she may not be as sarcastic as her older sister, but this one could hold her own.

"That's a shame." The two young people stopped in front of the entrance to lecture hall three.

"Oh? Why's that?" Anna raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Because I was going to see if you wanted to grab a cup of coffee later – on me," his pun was not lost on her.

She grinned and nodded, "After classes, maybe?"

"Not maybe. Definitely. Meet you here around four or so?"

"Yes. Definitely."

Elizabeth Lane was a stern looking woman, and her face rarely betrayed any of her true emotions. Even as she finished reading the brief letter from her runaway daughter, minimal traces of emotion ran through the lines on her face. It was only her closest friends who would be able to pick up the relief that relaxed her facial muscles a little bit. Narcissa Malfoy, sitting across the room from her and sipping tea, was one of those friends.

"Good news, Elizabeth?"

"Yes and no," Elizabeth said evenly, and paused a second before continuing, "Anna wrote to me."

"Oh? Is my goddaughter safe?" Narcissa seemed to show more compassion for the lost girl than her own mother.

"Yes, she is safe. She had written to inform me that she is enrolling in a muggle university to continue studying her art."

"Well that is a beneficial thing, the mind was never hurt by education, especially on a subject so close to the heart."

Elizabeth pursed her lips, "It is not the education I am concerned about. She is taking the classes at the University outside of Kent, and consequently staying with her half-sister for the term."

"Hermione? Why I haven't heard from her in years. I didn't even know she and Anna kept up. How is the girl? After the war, I lost track of her," Narcissa's happy reaction to Hermione's mention was the complete opposite of Elizabeth's, who was cold and grave.

"I have not spoken to her in six years, Narcissa. And I was hoping the same was true of Anna, but the girl has always done what she wanted. I heard through an acquaintance that Hermione is working as a healer at St. Mungo's now."

"Oh that is fantastic! I always knew she would do well. A full healer, and not even thirty yet. That girl is something to be proud of, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth ignored the comment, folded her hands on her lap, and changed the subject, "I would like to extract Anna from this bender and bring her home to properly announce her engagement to the Aaderon heir. This student nonsense is just a cover-up for her reckless behavior."

Narcissa put a hand on Elizabeth's shoulder to comfort her friend. "Do not do anything rash, my dear. Anna will never be easy until she has explored the world beyond our society in one way or another, and you can never expect her to do it with so little expense or inconvenience to her parents as under the present circumstances. Think about it. Hermione is responsible, and will make sure Anna stays out of any real trouble. Anna will learn, sooner than later, that she wishes to be home. And in the meantime, you may prepare all the arrangements for her engagement so they are set when she does return." Narcissa, pleased with herself, saw Elizabeth relax a bit.

"You are right. I will write back giving my blessing for one term of study at the University. But I shall request that she keep me regularly updated, and that her marks are good in her classes, or I will pull her back."

"Understandably so. Now, since Anna's engagement announcement will be a bit further off than we anticipated, do you mind horribly if I beg your aid in the planning of Draco's engagement announcement?"

Elizabeth was pale for a moment at the mention of Draco's engagement, but Narcissa wasn't paying attention in her joy. Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Of course. What did you have in mind?"

"I would like to begin with the guest lists," Narcissa pulled out two long rolls of parchment, "Now, the problem with Draco marrying so late is that he has already made many connections to important people outside of the pureblood society. It would not look particularly good of us to exclude many of these people, as I fully intend to have the press there. At the same time, no one of importance from pureblood society can be excluded. Not to mention the household rules which dictate that if one person of a household is invited, then all of age in the household must be invited. You can imagine that the lists have grown quite long. I was hoping you could help me narrow it down, especially on the non-society list, as they do not understand our customs..."

Elizabeth had already begun reading the long list and scratching off names, muttering to herself as she went. About halfway down the list, she looked up at Narcissa, "Must you have Harry Potter on the invitation list? I was under the impression he and Draco rarely saw each other after the war."

Narcissa raised an eyebrow, "I thought I told you, they worked together rebuilding the ministry for years. Draco from the Department of International Magical Cooperation and Mr. Potter from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Besides, the press would have a field day if we didn't invite him and our other young heroes."

"Other young heroes? You mean Dumbledore's Army?"

"Oh yes, they were all school mates with Draco. Besides that, they will be refreshing for our young folk to mix with."

Elizabeth was silent for a moment, "So you plan on inviting my daughter to this engagement party?"

"Yes, of course Anna will be there. We already knew that."

Elizabeth looked at Narcissa, as if trying to deduce something, but seems to give up. "And Anna's sister?"

"Will be invited due to her public perception, her ties with Draco through St. Mungo's, and last, but most important, we are inviting the other member of her household." Narcissa's delight looked like rays from the sun. Elizabeth looked like she had been trapped in a box and knew it.

Hermione was pacing on the floor of the Spell Damage Division as she waited for the other personnel to arrive. She was supposed to know, today, if she had received the promotion. Draco had said that today was the day, and he had never broken his word to her. What on earth had possessed the board to take nearly a week to make the decision was beyond her. But alas, the other healers showed up before any summons, owl or other way of hearing the news did, and rounds had to be started.

Anthony could tell that Hermione was stressed, and could guess the reason why. But no matter how sweet and caring he was, nor however many bad puns or funny comments he gave, he could not get her mind off the job. It was after an hour of rounds through Wards 45 and 49 that he convinced her to go to the children's ward, hoping it would calm her down.

As Hermione went from bed to bed, talking to, sharing stories with each of the children in this ward, she began to relax a bit. He short-term children, both suffering from burns inflicted by a misplaced fire spell, were doing much better. The blonde brother and sister pair had wide blue eyes and endlessly chatted, telling stories of their adventures with large gestures and hand motions. Convinced that they were close to full recovery and brimming with the energy that only came after returning to health, she was smiling by the time she got to her long-term patients.

It was just as she approach a small girl with black locks who was sleeping through the morning that a trainees healer came to get her.

"Healer Granger? Healer Aaderon asked to see you in his office."

Hermione thanked the girl, and left to walk down to the ground floor. When she reached the door of Healer Aaderon's office, she could hear voices arguing inside. Unable to make out the words, she waited for a lull and knocked twice.

"Yes?" Healer Aaderon's voice inquired. Hermione opened the door and poked her head inside. "Oh Hermione, please come inside."

Hermione entered to see Sir Radford standing next to Healer Aaderon, both behind the Healer's desk, and clearly in the middle of something. Hermione looked quizzically at the two men, "Is now a bad time? Should I come back later?"

"No, no," Healer Aaderon replied, and he sat down in his chair, looking far older than he was, "Sir Radford, on behalf of the board, would like to speak with you."

Sir Radford now stood up straight, and gestured the chair in front of Healer Aaderon's desk, then clasped his hands behind his back as Hermione sat attentively. He began in a crisp, clean-cut voice, "Healer Granger, the board has reviewed your application for the position of Healer-In-Charge of the Spell Damage Division of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. We have spent the last week sifting through you qualifications and references, in addition to those of the other candidates.

At this time, we do not believe you are qualified to hold this position. As such, the newly appointed Healer Sincok will begin his duties as Healer-In-Charge of the Spell Damage Division of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries on the first of the month, at which time the current Healer-In-Charge has decided to begin his retirement.

You shall retain your position as resident chief healer of the Spell Damage Division through the end of your contract, with the option of renewal. We request, that during the next month, you introduce Healer Sincok to the functions of the division, and maintain the role of guide for Healer Sincok in his transition from the south of France to the finest hospital in England."

Radford extended a hand to Hermione, who numbly shook it. Sir Radford bowed briefly, to both Healer Aaderon and Healer Granger, then left. Hermione turned to look at Healer Aaderon, dumbfounded.

"I need to get back to my rounds, sir," Hermione said flatly, and got up to leave.

"Miss Granger, wait," Healer Aaderon sounded as upset as Hermione knew she would feel later, after the shock wore off. Hermione turned back to look at him.

"I want you to know that I had no hand in this. The board out voted me. They have control over all our assets, I cannot run the hospital without their support. I must acquiesce to their staffing decisions."

Hermione nodded mutely, and walked out of the room.


	8. Chapter 7: The Decision

**Chapter Seven: The Decision**

Hermione was in shock the rest of the day. She did her job, and did it well, but everyone could tell something was off. She wasn't happy, smiling and joking, or even cramming everyone's heads with random bits of information. The only ones that seemed to cheer her up a bit were the patients in the children's ward. No one, however, questioned Healer Granger as to the change in attitude; no one except Anthony.

Anthony saw her as she was leaving the hospital that evening, and walked briskly across the entryway to catch up with her. Stubbornly cheerful, he walked in front of her and turned around to face her, halting her in her tracks.

"What's this all about?"

She diverted her eyes, "It's nothing."

" 'Nothing' has got you in a knot all day. I may not know you as well as your famous friends, but I know you weren't yourself after you returned to the children's ward about halfway through the day. You were moping instead of getting work done. That's not you. What did Aaderon have to say?"

Hermione's eyes came up to look at his face. There was legitimate worry there. It surprised her, sometimes, that the two of them had gotten close during healer's training and after in the residency, but there it was. It wasn't as if she had anything against Anthony, he would just never be Harry, or Ron; nor even Ginny, Neville or Luna. Yet, he was the one standing in front of her after a bad day, asking her what went wrong. An old saying came to mind and she almost grinned wolfishly at the idea: _Better is a neighbor who is near than a brother far away._ It seemed the saying was proven true this evening.

Hermione sighed and finally answered, "We have a new Healer-In-Charge coming on the first of the month. And he's not me."

Anthony's eyes portrayed a plethora of thoughts in the space of a second: surprise, concern and confusion among them. It took him less than the space of a minute to say, "In that case, let's go get dinner. And a drink."

Licorpãnte Street was busy at six at night, no matter what night of the year. Shops and restaurants were buzzing, and it took Anthony and Hermione more than a minute to find a place that wasn't over-crowded. Finally they settled on a pub that was busy, but not filled to capacity. It was smaller, with a homey air, and the people in it were full of life. Hermione and Anthony settled on a table in the corner, promptly ordered fish and chips from the waitress, and then began to chat.

Not long into their discussion, the door of the pub swung open and a surplus of sound entered with a larger group of people – all of which Hermione recognized. Though she had never been close to them, her school mates had not aged so much that they were unrecognizable. Gregory Goyle was as large as ever, flexing his muscles as he talked to the tall, dark and collected Blaise Zabini, cooler than anyone in the room. Daphne Greengrass, just behind them, was a tiny woman, chatting at a brisk pace with a shrieking Pansy Parkinson, whose nose still resembled that of a pug's. Theodore Nott, as weedy-looking as he was in their school days, alternated between sulking and listening to the ladies chatter. At the end of the party was a demure Asteria Greengrass, hanging off the arm of Draco Malfoy.

Hermione wasn't the only one who noticed their old classmates. Anthony grinned, ready to laugh at the situation, "Guess this is the Slytherin hangout, huh? I think you and I may be in the wrong place." Hermione forced a smile and turned back to her drink.

Draco has seen Hermione as soon as he'd entered the pub, but it seemed tactless to interrupt her and call attention in that direction when his group of friends was having such an entertaining time. Besides that, Asteria had a vice-like grip on his arm, and he wasn't sure he could move if he wanted to. Instead, he allowed himself to be steered to a large table just down the wall from Hermione's. It was only after the group sat down that Draco could properly see who Hermione was with: it was Anthony Goldstein, the healer from Mungo's who had pulled him aside at Potter's party.

It seemed the teddy bear had more game than he thought. Hermione seemed to be acting as if it was just two friends out for a drink, but Anthony appeared to think it was something more. He was just analyzing body language when he felt the vice-grip tighten on his arm.

"Darling, what did you want to drink?" Asteria's voice was sweet, and appeared unassuming.

Draco turned to look at the waiter, and said, without thinking, in a bit of a hoarse voice, "Firewhiskey, please." Asteria gave him a quizzical look; he only drank firewhiskey when he was particularly stressed about something. Normally, he stuck to wine or even butterbeer, because the firewhiskey hit him harder. Draco may not have seen it, but there was concern in her green eyes, and his ignorance of it just made her concern grow.

"Is that Anthony Goldstein?" Daphne's voice rose above the rest of the group, silencing them. Anthony, across the room, saw Daphne get up from the table and walk determinedly to them.

"Guess we can't escape the acquaintance now," Anthony whispered to Hermione right before Daphne reached them. Hermione smiled, and turned just as Daphne arrived.

"Anthony! I don't think I've seen you since our last year at Hogwarts!"

Anthony smiled, "Probably not, Daphne. You look well."

"As do you. Who is your charming friend?"

"Daphne, I'm sure you've met Healer Hermione Granger before now, though it may be even further back than when I last saw you."

"Miss Granger! I did not even recognize you," unlike with Anthony, Daphne's tone was now guarded, and a polite mask was covering her face. It was a very good mask – almost life-life, but a mask nonetheless, "you two must come join our table for the evening. We were just discussing next season's quidditch in light of the Canadian team winning this year's world cup against Uganda. It seems Europe must have a comeback."

"As fascinating as that is, Daphne, I'm afraid we must pass. We're awaiting our food, you see, and I'm sure it would be a bit crowded around your table," Anthony smiled apologetically.

Hermione shot him a grateful look, but also noticed the hurt expression on Miss Greengrass' face. Hermione inwardly sighed, and added, "However, Miss Greengrass, if you would allow us to finish our dinner, perhaps we will all chat afterwards?"

Daphne's face lit up again, "Wonderful. I shall let the table know." With that, she hopped back to her friends and left Hermione and Anthony to receive their fish and chips.

By the time Hermione and Anthony came to visit the other group, the hour was late. Everyone at the table was either sleepy or happy, depending. Daphne chattered away at a mile a minute, and forced Anthony to sit down right next to her and listen to all she might say. This left Hermione awkwardly at the end near Asteria, Draco and Pansy. Pansy simply sneered at Hermione, and Draco was very quiet. It was Asteria who talked to Hermione.

"I know that we've met before, but it's been so long I feel like I may as well re-introduce myself. I'm Asteria Greengrass, I was a few years behind you at Hogwarts, Healer Granger," Asteria extended a hand and Hermione shook it, feeling that this girl was genuine.

"It's nice to re-meet you, Asteria. Where have you been working to since school concluded for you?"

Asteria smiled, but before she could answer, Pansy jutted in with a sneering, "She's a gentlewoman, _Healer_ Granger. Asteria doesn't have to work for a living unlike some people."

Asteria blushed at her friend's brashness and explained, "I was travelling for two years after graduation, you see, and since our family is fortunate, I haven't been working yet. I am interviewing at several places right now for a journalism job, though."

"That's phenomenal," Hermione replied, "it takes guts to do that kind of work, to dig up the information and then report it truthfully. I wish you all the best."

"Thank you, Healer Granger," Asteria nodded her head, "I am waiting to hear from the Daily Prophet right now about a job, actually."

Hermione couldn't help herself, at the mention of job offers, her eyes slid over to Draco, who was in the process of downing more firewhiskey and looking determinedly across the table, away from Hermione. She turned back to Asteria and said, "I look forward to reading your articles there, Miss Greengrass." The evening proceeded as such for not more than half an hour more, for afterwards, almost all in the group were too tired to stay out much longer.

Hermione got back to her house after Anna had called it a night. Assuming she would hear about her sister's first day of classes tomorrow morning, Hermione curled up in her bed with a book. Unfortunately, her head was too full of thoughts on every subject imaginable to actually read. She finally gave up and closed her book, and thought through Radford's statement this morning. Most of it had been technical jargon used to cover the hospital's ass in case of legal issues.

Aaderon had said the board was responsible for her not getting the positions. That meant that at least three of the five board members had decided she was not the best candidate for the job. Well, she had always been on wonderful terms with Mrs. Kinanne, who was a loveable if scatterbrained woman. Hermione had no doubt in her mind that Mrs. Kinanne had supported her; for goodness' sake, the woman had told her before the meeting that she would like to take Hermione out to celebrate once all the formalities were completed. Guess that wouldn't be happening now.

This left Sir Radford, Mr. Parrol, Mr. Wimple and Draco Malfoy. With Mr. Parrol and Mr. Wimple, she had no particular connections, good or bad. She certainly respected them, and they had no ire against her, but they did not know her and her work well, either. They could have voted either way.

Sir Radford, though, he had been intimately involved in all of Hermione's work from her first training as a healer. He was close to the healer who had trained her; they were long time family friends, and had been incredibly excited to meet Hermione after 'hearing her praise.' Through her years as a full-fledged healer, he had visited the hospital proper often, and commended her work in the spell damage division, and her handling of the trainees. Further, he had personally funded a project researching a new technique to restore permanently lost memories which Hermione was crucially invested in. It seemed unlikely, then, that Sir Radford had voted against her.

Hermione puzzled for a minute. If she had gotten the support of a majority of the board, she would have gotten the position. She hadn't gotten the position, so she hadn't gotten the support of a majority of the board. It was clear that Radford and Kinanne had voted for her. Which means that, in order for a majority to vote against her, all of the other three – Parrol, Wimple and Malfoy – had voted against her. In other words, Malfoy had been the deciding vote that had cost her the promotion.

She thought back to this evening and realized that Malfoy had been uncharacteristically quiet, and skittish. Usually he was flirty and proud, but tonight he hadn't been himself. Had it been because she was in the room, and he knew he had denied her the job she had worked so hard for? Was he ashamed of what he had done? The more Hermione thought on the subject, the angrier she became, until she concluded that Draco Malfoy was an arrogant prick who thought he knew everything and how everyone's lives around him should play out. Thus, he determinedly changed or manipulated everything to his favor.

She knew, at the conclusion of those thoughts, that she _must_ prove him wrong. She didn't know why, but proving Draco Malfoy wrong was an incredible driving force. It was then that she decided she was going to apply for Healer-In-Charge positions elsewhere; not just at St. Mungo's. She had a bright future ahead of her, even if it meant moving out of Britain. She would go to Healer Aaderon and ask for references tomorrow and begin the job hunt throughout Europe. She had to advance her career, because she had worked for it. Or because she had to prove Draco Malfoy wrong. Or both.


	9. Chapter 8: The Mother

**Chapter Eight: The Mother**

Anna was brimming with excitement as she exited her final class of the day. She had grown up in pureblooded wizarding society, and therefore never faced the possibility of a normal date before. Or, even, the question of whether an outing was considered a date. Technically, he hadn't asked her on a date, which was disappointing. He had only asked her to coffee. But still, that was far better than what she had grown up with.

She had been paired with a boy every social season from her fourteenth year onwards, thanks chiefly to her mother. It was the same pattern every time. In June, her mother would receive letters from multiple families offering their sons as candidates. Elizabeth would sit in her parlor study for hours, conversing with Anna's grandmother, aunt, and godmother. Anna frequently eavesdropped on these conversations, and had been slightly horrified at their content.

They ladies would sit around, sipping their tea, and begin with polite conversation. Before long they would move to the more serious business. The business would begin by Narcissa informing the ladies that her daughter, Phoenixa, would be dating the Parrol heir for the season again. The two had begun being a couple on Phoenixa's thirteenth year, and had been paired together by their parents since then. That was never news.

The real chatter would begin when the discussion of who 'poor, dear' Anna would be paired with for the season. At first, each woman would throw out a few names, and another woman in the group would remind them of certain faults with that name. In the earlier years, the faults were on the part of the boys. The rejected boys had a collection of faults including 'too tall,' 'too short,' 'ignorant of all societal propriety,' 'blistering idiot,' 'horrid family,' 'no fortune,' and many, many more.

In the later years, the faults listed were those of Anna. She always cringed when they got to this part of this conversation. They would list her volume, her tendency to get into trouble, her love of plots and mysteries, and her thirst for knowledge as reasons why the young men would not like to be paired with her.

After a week of these general talks, the official offers themselves would come in. Sometimes, young men would come to the house to solicit an audience with Mrs. Lane. Others, an owl would arrive with an official-looking letter sealed with the wax stamp of one of the pureblooded families.

As these offers came in, the pluses and minuses of each offer would be taken into consideration by this panel which seemed to decide Anna's life. They would begin by passing recent photographs of each specimen around the room. One year, they created a projection of each face. Anna was ridden with shame when she heard of it, but luckily no one outside of the family ever saw it.

After weeks of painstaking discussion, Mrs. Lane would talk to Mr. Lane. She would enter his study one evening, and Mr. Lane would pretend to listen as she went on for roughly an hour and a half about the last candidate and why he was the only suitable one to accept. Mr. Lane would then write a brief owl to said candidate, and invite him to a ten o'clock interview the next morning.

At the conclusion of this interview with Mr. Lane, the young man would be introduced, or re-introduced to Anna, and Anna, in a formal dress, would graciously accept his offer to accompany her throughout the social season.

The time leading up to the seasonal opener was perhaps the worst, even more so than the talks. Mrs. Lane would spend every waking hour talking of the newest public couples, and guessing at their societal order. She would speculate every year which couple was to be granted to honor of top couple, and which would follow. It was always her dearest wish that he daughter be granted that honor, and the suspense would build up to the evening itself.

Every year, without fail, Anna Lane and her escort were listed below the top ten couples. And every year, without fail, Elizabeth would grow ill after the couple rankings were revealed, and go home, unable to face the society, accompanied by Mr. Lane, leaving Anna and her new escort to socialize enough for the whole family. On a side note, Phoenixa and the Parrol heir, from her sixteenth year onwards, were indisputably named the top couple of the year.

And so, Anna would bumble through another social season escorted by some boring, dreary and far too traditional boy who didn't know what to do with her. He joy came from time spent with friends, plotting to make exciting things happen, and escaping from her escort whenever possible. The boys had been the same every season. Dreary and dull.

This was the dating world as Anna knew it. The possibility of actually choosing to spend time with someone, to get to know them better, with no hidden motive, was alien to her. Thus, as Anna exited her last class of the day, she thought of grabbing a cup of coffee with Trent, whether it was a date or not, and smiled to herself. In this town, in this new life, she had the freedom to actually date. And she could be herself at the same time.

Hermione began the job hunt first thing that morning. Before Anna was awake, she began sending letters out to multiple healers and connections all over Europe, and had sent many of them out as a sleepy Anna came down the stairs.

"Morning," mumbled Anna, who instantly resumed her customary slump at the table.

"Morning," Hermione smiled and began to busy herself making breakfast. "How was the first day of classes?"

"Good. And even better today when I _don't_ have an eight a.m. one," Anna grabbed a piece of toast and began to nibble on its edge, "Did you hear about the promotion?"

A pained look crossed Hermione's face, "I didn't get it."

Anna's eyes shot up, followed by her whole self, as she went to squeeze Hermione in a giant hug, "I'm sorry. I know you worked hard for it."

Hermione shrugged and grabbed a glass of orange juice, "I'm going to look at other hospitals now."

"Outside of Britain? But why?" Anna seemed to answer her own question, looked a bit peachy, and then hastily changed the subject, "School was interesting yesterday. I met some of the other students…"

Hermione raised an eyebrow as she sat down across from her sister, saying slowly and carefully, "And by 'some of the other students' what exactly do you mean?"

Anna giggled, a girlish grin on her face, "I got coffee with a rather adorable boy after classes. He said he knew you, Hermione. His name's Trent."

Hemione's brow furrowed, "Not young Trent Smith? I haven't seem him in at least a year. He spent summers here with his aunt and uncle for several years running; during the year he went away to school, somewhere in southern France."

"The same," Anna smiled, "He's friendly. We talked for a few hours yesterday afternoon, I get the feeling I'll run in to him again very soon. He also happens to be particularly good looking."

There was a paused before Hermione said cautiously, "Anna, you know that Mrs. Lane is still arranging a marriage for you, on that will most likely be announced as soon as you return home. Your living here for a term doesn't change that." She reached for Anna's hand, but Anna pulled back.

"I know that. And I'll figure that out when it comes. But that doesn't mean my fun here and now has to be ruined," Anna turned to go, but just as she reached the door, turned back, hands on the doorframe, "You know, if it's a Healer-In-Charge position you're looking for, my godmother has particular connections to the Lefay Hopitale in Paris. I could owl her if you want." At Hermione's brief nod, Anna left to get ready for school.

At noon that day, Narcissa Malfoy sat in her east parlor looking out the window, waiting for her son and his fiancée to arrive. They were marginally late, and she suspected they would have to go straight to the dining hall when they arrived to have luncheon rather than tea, but such was the way of the world.

Her subject of contemplation was unusual, in that it was not on her normal list of thoughts; that list consisted of running her household, the lives of her children, and making her way through the social season. No, her current thoughts ran over the contents of the latest letter she had received from her goddaughter, Anna Lane. Anna had written her godmother considerable more detail than her mother, chatting about classes and living with her sister. At the end of the letter, however, there was a peculiar request. It seemed that her sister, Miss Grager, had _not_ obtained the position of Healer-In-Charge of the spell division of St. Mungo's that she had applied for, and as such was looking for a new job.

This in itself was a mystery, Narcissa particularly remembered her husband and son discussing this issue at home while Draco was learning to take over the board position at St. Mungo's. Lucius, who had reviewed the candidates himself, had told Draco that, despite his dislike of the woman personally, she was an excellent healer and a fine candidate. Draco, who hadn't needed much convincing, added to that his impression of her during their school days and the war. She had also heard the two discuss the other candidates, and the results of the board's discussions. Her impression had been that Miss Granger had gotten the position, but then again, things can change in a short space of time, and she had not heard the subject mentioned during the last week.

This brought Narcissa's thoughts to Miss Granger herself. Nacissa had had little to do with Hermione since the younger woman has left pureblood society six years back. They'd had a brief encounter at the Battle of Hogwarts when Narcissa had been trying to find her son, but not much else. She remembered the girl was intelligent and witty, she had made a good impression from the beginning. She was in Narcissa's good books regardless of society.

The war had made Narcissa look at society a bit differently. It was a wonderful tradition-upholding monument, and she appreciated it for that, but of the alliances it made by marriage. . . after searching through hundreds of bodies on the Hogwarts grounds, desperately trying to find her son, hoping he was alive, perhaps there was more to life than society. Perhaps, since it had been her family that had come first in that hour of desperation, there was something to be said with surrounding yourself with those you loved.

Concluding these thoughts, Narcissa was considering which contacts would best serve the purpose of finding Miss Granger a job when the parlor door opened and the butler announced Draco and Asteria.

Asteria Greengrass was the perfect daughter-to-be, and embraced Narcissa as soon as she entered, complimenting the older woman's clothing and genteelness. Draco smiled gently as the women embraced, and then was called over by his mother to give her a quick hug, at the end of which she held him at arm's length and gave him a quizzical look. Draco, who had no idea what that look was for, just smiled, and let her lead him and his fiancée into lunch.

Half an hour later found the three sitting around the end of a very long, ornate table. "Asteria, my dear, I sent the final guest list for your engagement announcement over to your mother yesterday eve," they were now on the salad course in the dining room, talking of plans, "I do hope you and her have time to finish reviewing it tonight, I should like to get the invitations out by tomorrow at the latest."

Asteria gave Narcissa a charming smile and confirmed that she and Mrs. Greengrass had been reviewing the lists and would send her a confirmation owl no later than suppertime, complimenting Narcissa's handiwork at the same time. Narcissa, pleased, turned her attention to Draco.

"Now, Draco dear, I got a letter from our Anna this morning that was quite distressing. She informed me that Healer Granger did not get appointed Healer-In-Charge of her division, and that instead the position went to a French healer."

Draco was quiet for a split second, and then replied in a tone which, with the exception of those who knew him well, sounded even and businesslike. "Yes, the board decided Healer Sincok was better suited for the position."

"That is a shame. Miss Granger was always such a bright girl; I've heard she's started looking at other hospitals outside of Britain for a similar position."

Draco's surprised look was masked by Asteria's response of, "Oh what a sly girl! She didn't mention a thing about looking for a new position yesterday evening, only that she was currently a healer! I could have gotten her in touch with my uncle at the Merlin Emergency Center in Geneva. . ." and Asteria was off, her face portraying calculations and plots afoot.

"You didn't mention you'd run into Miss Granger outside of work, Draco," Narcissa's comment went unheard by the fiancée, who was lost in her thoughts, but there was no mistaking the look on Draco's face. It was a mixture between fear, exasperation and the mention of someone who sparked his interest more than she should.

"We had a drink with her and her colleague last night down on Licorpãnte street; I haven't seen her outside of there."

"Oh no dear, didn't you say she was at Harry Potter's engagement party?" Of course, now was when Asteria had decided to pay attention again, "You said that you and her talked a bit about business; in fact she offered to meet up with you to discuss the research projects currently underway at St. Mungo's; and you said after that she asked about your sister, and family, and you chatted for a bit while the Weasleys sang that old Hogwarts song…"

"Yes, and that was about it. Other than that I haven't seen Hermione outside of work, mother. You must understand we don't socialize much—"

"She's such a charming woman, though, Draco," it was Asteria again, "really, the conversation I had with her last night showed that. I do wonder why she's not in our more general acquaintance, I should like to get to know her a bit better. Perhaps I'll owl her to see if she'd like to have tea this week…"

"Oh that would be a wonderful idea, Asteria," Narcissa was all of a sudden in on the plan, and encouraging the girl "I do remember her being quite a bright young witch, you would do well from her acquaintance."

Asteria turned her head back to Draco, smiling a far too charming smile at him and bubbling laughter behind her pretty eyes, "Draco, I am curious, what was Miss Granger like when you were younger? I scarcely met her once at school, but you were in the same year; do you remember?"

Draco looked for a second at his mother, whose eyes were alight with a smile, as she raised her glass to him in salute. She was plotting.


	10. Chapter 9: The Luncheon

**Chapter Nine: The Luncheon**

Draco was sitting at his desk, getting a headache from going through stacks of reports from the research labs at St. Mungo's, when a soft knock on the door broke his concentration. "Come in," he said, half paying attention, and flipped through to the next report, determining the current one illegible due to the scientific language in which it was written.

"I was told in school that skimming through papers never aided the learning process." There were very few voices that could catch Draco Malfoy by surprise, but hers was one of them. Draco's head snapped up and his eyes met those of Miss Granger.

"And you always are right about such things," Draco sighed, "I'm afraid the scope of these reports are beyond me." There was a slight pause, but when Miss Granger did not respond, he inquired, "I didn't expect to see you until the board reviews your department at the end of the month."

Hermione gave a smile which was laced with ice, "I was in the building for other reasons, and Healer Aaderon requested I see how you're faring while wading through St. Mungo's unique research topics."

Draco pretended to pout, "I'm hurt, Hermione, truly, that you didn't come simply to say hello to me."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "I can see you're the same as ever. In which case, I think I shall leave you to wade through reports on your own, and perhaps suggest to Healer Aaderon that he send Healer Clearwater next time he wants someone to associate with his newest board member…"

Draco stood as she said this and straightened the papers on his desk, "But Healer Clearwater is one of those ladies who uses technical jargon, and seeing as I've spent the morning reading and not understanding that same technical jargon, I would much rather prefer that _you_ share the information about research as you so generously offered at Potter's engagement party."

Hermione pursed her lips, but did not respond.

"In fact, I think it would be a wonderful topic to discuss over lunch. Have you been to _Le Petit Chat_ lately? They added a seafood medley to their menu a few months ago, it's quite wonderful," Draco had, while talking, gotten his coat and walked out the doorway past Miss Granger. He turned around to look at her once, "Are you coming, Miss Granger?" Hermione sighed and followed him to the lift.

It hadn't been Hermione's idea. In fact, she had been vehemently opposed to it. Going to lunch with Draco Malfoy, that is. But, Hermione Granger did not purposefully disobey or let down her teachers or boss. It was one of the reasons she got such incredible recommendations from them. Healer Aaderon was no different.

Hermione had been in the middle of rounds with Anthony that morning, in her green healer's robes, when a runner had informed her that Healer Aaderon wanted to speak with her. Hermione, who was still upset about not receiving the promotion, had not spoken to the Chief Healer since then, but nonetheless went down to Healer Aaderon's office.

She didn't knock on the half-open door. She wasn't in the mood to be polite. Instead, she walked in and said, "What is it?"

Healer Aaderon was a bit startled by the normally good-tempered Miss Granger addressing him such, but he smiled and looked up from his paperwork, "Miss Granger. I was hoping to find you in a better disposition, but no matter… are your rounds completed this morning?"

"Nearly. Healer Goldstein is finishing the Janis Thickley Ward as we speak. Unless you have something important to discuss, I really should be getting back to my job."

She could have sworn there was a laughter in his eyes. Not fair, really, when she was this upset, that someone would be laughing at her. The Healer responded with, "I'm sure the spell damage staff can handle a few minutes without your presence. I have a favor to ask you."

Hermione sighed audibly, "I already told you I will teach Healer Sincok. the ropes when he arrives on the first of the month. You don't need to formally ask me."

"That isn't what I was going to ask, though I appreciate your willingness to help in a very uncomfortable situation. No, I was going to ask you about something more immediate. At the board meeting last week, young Mister Malfoy expressed an interest in understanding the details of the research of our hospital. Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised, for although our other board members are aware of the general scope of our research, none of them have taken the time to sit down and discuss the process we've gone through in each laboratory.

Mr. Malfoy had, of course, already been copied the general reports on our research that all of our trustees and stock holders get each term, but he expressed a genuine interest in having the research explained to him. The problem is that he was not trained in the sciences or the healing arts, thus I, among many other healers, have an inability to truly explain the investigations which our researchers undergo every day. As your colleague Healer Goldstein would put it, I use too many 'big' words."

He smiled ruefully at his own crack, and continued, "This is where you come in, my dear. You have a knack for explaining and teaching. I was hoping you would take some time out of your day to visit the office on Licorpãnte Street, and perhaps explain to Mr. Malfoy our key findings in the last year."

Wishing to shout her vehement opposition to such a plan, Hermione refrained and instead clenched her fist. She was in the process of applying for a new job at other hospitals. Hospitals which would contact St. Mungo's and talk to Healer Aaderon. She needed to be in this man's good books, if only to make sure her references were solid. Counting to ten silently in her head before she spoke, Hermione plastered a smile on her face, "Of course, Healer Aaderon. When would you like me to visit Mr. Malfoy?"

"I would like him to be caught up as soon as possible, so if you don't have any urgent cases, you may leave within the hour and take Mr. Malfoy to lunch on the hospital's bill," Healer Aaderon, obviously done with this conversation, swiveled around in his chair, looking at the paper he had just picked up off the desk. Hermione turned and walked out, her robes billowing behind her.

It had taken her approximately half an hour to check the status of her department. Anthony and the interns had completed the morning rounds, her long term patients were fed, and none of her short term patients were set to be discharged. With the emergency ward empty, she was shooed out of the hospital by Anthony and had apparated to her house for a change of clothes. There was something to be said for the extra boost of confidence that a wonderful outfit gave her. Putting aside her lime green healers' robes, she replaced them with a tidy businesswoman's outfit and her own fall jacket and scarf. She had hesitated for the space of a minute, but then apparated to the office building on the end of Licorpante Street.

As such, she now found herself trailing after Draco Malfoy to _Le Petit Chat_ for lunch. Wonderful.

Draco was in the lead all the way out the building and turned to look at Hermione as they exited the building, waiting for her to pull even with him. He smirked. She was distracted, he bet she barely noticed him looking back at her. Her expression, as always, gave away her emotions. She was worried about something, though he suspected, due to the lack of glances in _his_ direction, that it was not him.

When she did pull even with him, they began walking the block to the restaurant. There was a long silence that stretched behind them. Miss Granger looked around at the bustling surroundings; wizards and witches shopped, chatted and admired the general splendor. They reached the double glass doors of _Le Petit Chat_ without having conversed at all, and Draco opened the door before Hermione reached it. She nodded to him in thanks, a bit of confusion in her eyes, but went in anyways.

"Table for two, please, Luis," Draco said to the host at the podium in front of them while another restaurant employee took Hermione's coat. The host smiled brilliantly at Mr. Malfoy, and chatted to him as he grabbed two menus and led the pair to a small round table set for two in the middle of the brightly lit room.

Draco pulled out Hermione's chair for her before sitting down himself, not giving a second thought from him, but Hermione gave him a tentative smile in return, which caused several memories to resurface.

Six years ago, in this very spot, he and Hermione Granger had been tricked into going on a formal, pureblood society date by Anna Lane. It had, perhaps, been the trick Anna had played that evening that had led to the rest of that insane summer. Shaking his head to clear the thoughts, he looked up at the waitress as she approached and calmly ordered his luncheon.

Hermione had seen Draco's expression change as they sat down at the table and had an inkling of a suspicion that he had just succumb to the flashbacks which she was desperately trying to repress. She distinctly remembered their first date so long ago, when she had known nothing of pureblood custom or society, and though his behavior had been civil, she had been scared out of her wits. He had berated her that night for showing emotion too easily, something that she was still apt to do. However, as she looked through her lashes as Draco ordered salmon, she noted that, perhaps today,_he_ was the one who wore his emotions on his sleeve. He was still visibly shaken.

The waitress turned to Hermione, and she quickly ordered her own lunch. As the waitress left, Hermione turned back to Malfoy.

"So. Shall we discuss the research in the spell damage department first, or would you like me to go over the projects in the other divisions to begin with?"

Draco smirked a bit, some of the nervousness disappearing from his features. "I suppose a general overview would be more along the lines of what I need, really, though if we have time I'd love to hear the technical details of your own division's research." As he said this, he raised his glass to her.

Hermione smiled and raised hers in return, "Then let's begin with the creature incidents laboratories. They were recently supplied with several blast-ended skrewts…"

Four courses and three and a half hours later found the science discussion concluded. Hermione had been incredibly patient and well spoken in explaining each project, ensuring Draco actually understood the basis of each laboratory before moving on. Draco himself had been a patient listener, asking questions in the right places and working ideas and thoughts out with Hermione until he understood the premise, despite his lack of science background.

". . . so, hopefully, if they can manage another few months of successful tests, they'll perfect a new memory modification charm that will aid in those with seemingly permanent memory loss."

"That's incredible. I had no idea of the innovation at St. Mungo's."

"Yes, well, the problem with that kind of ground-breaking research is that the team will get very close, then find a problem they didn't know of and have to start over. It's unfortunately how research and development works," she smiled a bit, twiddling with the stem of her glass.

"Two steps forward, one step back?" Draco smiled and met Hermione's eyes. She nodded briefly, blushing a bit.

"Well, that about gets you up to speed with everything." There was a pause, and the easy flow of conversation that came with a common topic halted. Hermione, thinking of nothing else to say, reached for the check the same time Draco did. Their hands brushed and she pulled away as if she had been burned. Refusing to acknowledge the spark, she reached back towards the check but Draco had already picked it up.

"Really, Draco, I can pay for the luncheon today, St. Mungo's…"

"Don't worry about it," Draco said firmly, and handed the check to the waitress with the appropriate amount of money, "call it a return favor for you spending several hours explaining detailed scientific work to me." He smiled, "besides, though you may detest it, I like being chivalrous sometimes. Not every idea followed in society is bad."

Hermione huffed and blew her stray bangs out of her face, crossing her arms. He had caught her. Next time, she would just have to pay ahead of time when he wasn't paying attention. Draco was smirking, and politely accepted his change from the waitress when she returned.

"Would you care to take a walk down to Flourish and Blott's? I need to pick up a few volumes, and I know you are probably headed in that direction."

Hermione's expression softened. "I. . . sorry, Draco. I need to. . . promised to meet my co-worker, Anthony Goldstein, this afternoon to finish preparing for Healer Sincok's arrival." As if something snapped at her thinking of Anthony, or maybe it was Healer Sincok, she got up and stuck out a hand to Draco. "Thank you for luncheon, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco rose and shook her hand, after which she turned and left, head held high and heels clicking. Draco stood there, not moving, but rather wondering what had changed so quickly in her demeanor. And why in the world she spent so much time with Anthony Goldstein.


	11. Chapter 10: The Invitation

**Chapter Ten: The Invitation**

Anna was expectant after class. She was expecting to see Trent. She hadn't given him a phone number, because she didn't have a phone. She was a witch, after all. She had found that people who you wanted to bump into tended to bump into you if you kept your eyes peeled. So, she was hoping he would show up on campus, mysteriously appearing like he had a tendency to do. After spending a quarter of an hour scanning the pathways from her perch on the bench under the large oak tree, she decided to stretch her legs and cross her fingers. She began making her way to Howie's café when Trent appeared on her left, drawing even with her.

"You weren't waiting for me, were you?" Trent asked, a grin on his face.

"Not at all," Anna said, the perfect mask of sarcasm hidden under a serene tone "just going to grab a bite to eat."

"Oh, well that's a shame. See, if you'd managed to wait a bit for me, I was thinking of taking you to this restaurant tonight, you know, if you'd like to go out with me, but if you're in a hurry…" he now had something akin to an evil grin on his face as a bit of panic showed on Anna's.

Anna rolled her eyes when she saw his expression, but smiled, "I'd love to."

Dinner that night was at a relaxed, but very pretty restaurant. It was a café surrounding the town square, a few doors down from Howie's. The place was friendly and welcoming and had little glass-top tables and an array of vegetarian dishes. Everyone there was in jeans rather than formalwear, and the occupants were mostly university students.

"So, Miss Anna, I know that you're an art student, you live with your sister, and you toured Europe last year. But, despite our cup of coffee the other day I know little more."

"Well, that may have to remain as such for the time being, for I have yet to ask _you_ many questions."

"Hmm. A fair assessment. Go on then, I'm an open book."

Anna looked through the windows to the starlit sky for a moment before asking, "Favorite book. Go."

Trent feigned hurt on his face and put a hand to his heart, "Such a painfully difficult question. How could you be so cruel as to start with it?"

"To make out your character. And no avoiding the question." Anna had an entirely serious face on, showing none of the sarcasm that laced her words. "And don't say the _The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants_. I would know that you're lying."

"I don't know what you're talking about, dear. I obviously am to manly to have read such books as those. There is no explanation as to why a pair of jeans could fit four girls of such different stature."

Anna grinned, "So you do know of them."

"Caught in my own trap," Trent was grinning now, too. "But in all seriousness, probably Dostoevsky's _Crime and Punishment_. It's incredibly deep."

"And here I thought you were going to give me another silly answer, or turn out to be a closeted science fiction junkie," she sighed an exaggerated, dramatic sigh and asked, "I suppose books are a wash for us, then. I read books that make me laugh out loud rather than deep, meaningful ones." She made a face, "I leave those to my sister."

Trent laughed. Anna glowed in response, glad she could make him laugh. "I am curious, you said the other day that you're staying with your aunt and uncle now, while you attend university, but I never did hear where you're from?"

"Well, father lives in the south of France, which is where I went to school up until now, but we're British, he and I. He transferred out there for a job when I was young, right after mum died. I've spent most of my time since then here, with Aunt Amie and Uncle Jon."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to pry," Anna reached for his hand and held it on the table briefly. Trent blushed a bit, but didn't pull away.

"It's okay, it happened years ago. Where did you grow up?"

"Oh, mother and father live in London with soci—their relations. Our family's been there for generations. I went to school here, in Britain, to a small boarding school. It's a relief being at a larger university where not everyone knows everyone else and all their personal gossip."

"I know exactly what you mean."

Hermione got home late after finishing details for Healer Sincok's arrival and getting a quick drink with Anthony and the other healers in her division. All of them needed it to prepare for the new Healer-In-Charge, who was due to arrive tomorrow. As she came in, she noted the house was quiet and saw a note on the counter.

_Hermione – Headed out to dinner with a friend, be back late. There's mail for you that you missed this morning. Hope work wasn't too bad. Much love, Anna._

Hermione rifled through the stack, and two things caught her eye: an embossed envelope in very fine parchment and a letter addressed in pink ink and slightly perfumed. Making a snap decision, she opened the embossed envelope first and carefully, straining to not tear the expensive parchment. The parchment she pulled out was very fine, white and written on in detailed cursive set with flourishes.

_Misses Hermione Granger and Anna Lane,_

_You are Cordially Invited to Celebrate with us_

_The Engagement of_

_Draco Lucius Malfoy & Asteria Lystelle Greengrass_

_October seventh, Two-Thousand-Two_

_7 o'clock p.m., Malfoy Manor_

_Please Attend in Formal Dress-Ware._

_Repondez Si-Vous Plait par 12 o'clock midnight of October first_

_Sincère, Narcissa Malfoy_

Hermione's hand shook for reasons she could not explain as she set the letter down. She would, of course, have to attend. It was incredibly rude in wizarding society to turn down such an invitation. She suspected that the only reason she was invited was because Anna was invited, and to invite only one member of a household was an insult. How inconvenient, since I have sworn to loathe him for all eternity. However, Asteria had seemed nice enough. Perhaps she could brave the night, especially if Anna was there with her.

Putting all thoughts of it out of her mind, she turned to the letter addressed in pink ink. The writing was neat, written in long, curling script. Breaking the seal of pink wax, she saw it was from one of the people she was attempt to not think about.

_My Dear Miss Granger,_

_It was such a pleasure to meet you the other night. I cannot tell you for how long I have wanted to make your acquaintance, after hearing of your not only from the media and the wizarding world general gossip, but from my close friends and relatives, including my fiancée, what a wonderful witch you are._

_I know this is very untowards, but I would like to invite you to have tea with my in the upcoming week. You see, I am working on my writing portfolio and am hoping to do a piece on witches in the workplace. When going through the witches who I wish to interview for it, I thought 'what better than one of the youngest and most accomplished healers in the wizarding world, and Harry Potter's best friend to boot?' I would be honored if you would join me, as the piece is meant to be my center article for the samples I am sending to the _Prophet_._

_Also, I hope by now that the invitation to my engagement party has arrived at your cottage. I hope very much to see you and Miss Anna there, as I do dote on her!_

_Sincerely,_

_Asteria Greengrass_.

Not wanting to deal with anything contained in either letter, Hermione went upstairs and to bed.

The barrage on unwanted mail, however, did not cease with the night. Hermione woke up the next morning to a very chipper Anna and a stack of letters on the table. As Hermione rifled through them, half-listening to an incessant Anna detailing all of last night, she noticed there was a copy of _Witch Weekly_ on the bottom. Hemione help up the horridly pink magazine to show Anna.

"This yours?"

Anna responded without looking up, matter-of-factly, "Hey, every girl has her guilty pleasures. Yours are books. Mine is my once-weekly tabloid." Anna looked up at Hermione grinning, but then made the mistake of glancing at the cover of _Witch Weekly_ and he smile dropped faster than the Chudley Cannons dropped quaffles.

"What's the matter?" Hermione was smiling and turned the magazine around to see its cover. She was looking at her own picture, but her picture was looking across the table at none other than Draco Malfoy. She dropped it back on the counter and saw the flash of that horrid name: Rita Skeeter. Too curious to spare herself, she opened the magazine to read the article.

_A Taste for Famous Wizards_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_Miss Hermione Granger, long known for her taste in famous wizards, has struck again. She has dated many famous wizards, such as 'the chosen one,' Harry Potter, the internationally famous quidditch player Viktor Krum, successful quidditch coach Oliver Wood and war hero Ronald Weasley, over the years and seems to be moving on to, or back to, her next famous wizard._

_Multiple sources confirm that devious Miss Granger was seen yesterday at the renown romantic restaurant _Le Petit Chat_ with none other than the charming Mr. Draco Malfoy. Mr. Malfoy was linked with Miss Granger over six years ago, when an announcement of an engagement between the two was highly anticipated, but never occurred. Mr. Malfoy is currently engaged to the lovely Miss Asteria Greengrass, and the official announcement is expected within the month, but it seems grasping Miss Granger will have none of it._

_Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger have been seen accompanying each other frequently in the last weeks, ever since Mr. Malfoy accepted a position on the Board of Trustees at St. Mungo's Hospital, where Miss Granger is a healer. An inside source, however, tells that this is not the reason the two have been together so often._

"_It is true they haven't seen much of each other since the war, and Miss Granger had no reason to reconnect with him, since he hasn't seriously dated anyone up until now. If you ask me, the 'working together' ploy is just a cover-up so Miss Granger can spend time with Draco and snatch him away from our dear Asteria before it's too late. You see, she's finally discovered all the other famous wizards of our generation are taken, and sees this as her last chance, no matter how many hearts she breaks along the way."_

_Our interviewer, who wished to remain anonymous, also stated that Asteria would be heartbroken if Mr. Malfoy was lured into such a trap, and that they will do their best to prevent the advances of Miss Granger. Only time will tell if they can succeed._

Anna, who had been reading over Hermione's shoulder, gave a low whistle, "Been on a date with Draco and you didn't tell your sister?"

Hermione's face flushed as her voice raised, yelling, "I was NOT on a date with Malfoy! We were discussing business, not matter what stinking Rita Skeeter wrote up, you know for a fact that during my fourth year she wrote a horrid piece claiming I broke Harry's heart at the same time as leading Viktor on. Besides that, what happened between me and Draco was years ago, why in the hell would I re-initiate that? It's not like I'm desperate! As a matter of fact, I could date anyone I wanted in the wizarding world, seeing as I'm bloody sidekick of the Chosen One and a full healer to boot; I don't need to choose dates from among the _engaged_ wizarding population…" her rant continued, and contained phrases such as Slytherin, hard work, pureblood mania, evil ferret, scheme of Healer Aaderon, among it, not to mention a brief stint about her not being promoter to Healer-In-Chief when she'd worked for it, and all ending with the particular evil tendencies of Draco Malfoy.

It was a full two minutes of yelling before Hermione realized Anna was in fits of giggles. Her little sister had been joking. When Hermione had calmed down enough, Anna said in a matter-of-fact tone, "Bet you a galleon that the interviewer was Pansy Parkinson. She always was a little twit."

Hermione ruefully smiled, "Yes she was. Do you remember the Battle of Hogwarts? She suggested we hand Harry over to Voldemort. I will never forget the look on Ginny's face."

"Meh," Anna said, "Pansy's got what's coming to her. Her parents announced her engagement last month."

"Really? To who?"

"Gregory Goyle."

And, despite the propaganda, the invitation, the letter from Asteria, the lack of promotion and everything else dramatic in her life right now, Hermione Granger subsided into fits of giggles.


	12. Chapter 11: The HealerInCharge

**Chapter Eleven: The Healer-In-Charge**

It was eight o'clock in the morning on the first of the month and unlike most mornings, the entire division staff was in the central area of the spell damage floor, early and expectant. Hermione arrived to a slew of pacing trainee healers, a nervous looking Anthony, and even a research staff that was not in their laboratories. Hermione, who was calm and cool, set the files in her hands down on the counter in front of her and turned to Anthony.

"Is the entire staff really that nervous?"

Anthony sighed, "There have been some rumors while you've been. . . distracted. Once we heard who was taking over our division, the trainees did some digging, and apparently he's a bit unpleasant to be around, word is he—" Anthony's voice faded out just as four men walked in to the division entry. Healer Aaderon was accompanied by Sir Radford, Draco Malfoy, and a plump, elderly man who sported a salt-and-pepper beard and grey hair, both cut short. The newcomer did not, unlike Healer Aaderon and the rest of the staff, sport the traditional lime green healer's robes, but wore cream-colored ones emblazoned with the symbol of a healer on the shoulder. Silence fell as the men entered.

Healer Aaderon gave a smile to his staff that was forced, and began to speak, "Good morning, everyone. I can see everyone has made it on time today," he glanced in the direction of a particular trainee with a knack for being late, and a few of the staff chuckled, "and that is a very good thing today. As you know, Healer Davies has decided to retire to spend his remaining years with his family. In his place, the Board of Trustees has decided to hire Healer Sincok, who is transferring here from the Hopitale de St. François in Avignon. I trust you all will help him settle in to his new role here at St. Mungo's." Healer Aaderon turned, nodded to Healer Sincok, "And before Healer Sincok begins his first day among us, Sir Radford would like to speak to you all."

Sir Radford stepped forward and cleared his throat. The staff gave him every bit as much attention as Healer Aaderon, for they held him in high esteem, "My dear healers, trainees and research staff. Your division has long held a place in my heart. I have personally overseen the research projects in this division over the past few years, and taken a mentor position to your fine resident healers" he beamed and looked over at Hermione and Anthony, before continuing, "As such, I would like to transition from Healer Davies to Healer Sincok to be as smooth as possible. I know the change between bosses can be quite rough, but I assure you that the entire board of trustees came to the conclusion that Healer Sincok is more than cut out for the job. His expertise in spell damage proved true when he was interviewed by Healer Aaderon, and Mr. Malfoy behind me visited him in Avignon to see his research projects first hand.

This brings me to another matter which I would like to make you aware of. In light of Healer Sincok's transition to a different and larger hospital, I am appointing Healer Granger to be his personal assistant for his first bit of time among us. Therefore, if while Healer Sincok is still orienting himself, you may address nominal questions to Healer Granger.

As I would also like Healer Sincok to become familiar with the way our hospital and board interact on a daily basis, the board has decided to appoint one of our own members, Mr. Draco Malfoy, to the position of overseer of the division until such a time as Healer Sincok is fully settled. He will not only be working directly with Healer Sincok in the division, but during the course of the next month, reviewing your division and how it processes. His tenure among you will begin in a little over a week's time. In the meantime, we leave you to get better acquainted with your new Healer-In-Charge."

Sir Radford bowed to the crowd, and left the room, followed immediately by a sweeping Healer Aaderon. Draco Malfoy sent one brief look over his shoulder to the desk where Anthony and Hermione stood, but he, too followed them out. A silence fell between the trainees and researchers, and Hermione looked at Anthony with a quizzical brow.

Healer Sincok looked around the room as if analyzing everyone, then plastered a smile on his face, his eyes twinkling with a kind of malice, "Back to work, all of you. You can introduce yourselves to me over the course of the week. We shouldn't be wasting daylight hours."

The staff was suddenly bustling and rushing to move out of the entryway; trainees, researchers, and specialists running and tripping over each other to get where they should be. Hermione and Anthony, however, stayed right where the were. Anthony tactfully looked down at the charts he was working on as he waited for the rest of the staff to clear, avoiding Healer Sincok's gaze. Hermione did no such thing. She looked straight up at the new healer until his gaze became slightly uncomfortable.

"And you are?" there was a tint of arrogance in this man's voice.

"Healer Hermione Granger, chief resident in the Spell Damage Division, sir," she extended her hand, but he looked down at it, wriggled his hand a little by his side, then looked back up at her. "And the second?"

Anthony snapped the chats closed and put on a brilliant smile, extending his hand as well, "Healer Anthony Goldstein, resident."

Healer Sincok tentatively shook Anthony's hand, though it was an uncomfortably fast handshake, as Healer Sincok pulled away almost immediately. "And you two are out in the lobby while everyone else is working why?"

Hermione replied in a sugary tone, "Healer Aaderon requested that we teach you how things work around here," she turned around to grab the chats stacked on the counter behind her, "so I figured it would be best for us to stay and introduce ourselves to you now rather than later. Sir."

"Of course." Healer Sincok grumbled, then looked at the charts in each healers' hands. "Healer Goldstein, walk me through rounds. I want to know which patients we have here."

Anthony, who had gone back to his charts, looked up, startled, "I'm sorry sir, but I need to finish my work. Besides that, Healer Aaderon specifically requested that Healer Granger show you around this morning, as did Sir Radford."

Hermione had started walking towards the emergency ward and turned back to Healer Sincok, "Are you coming, sir? I must show you the facilities." Healer Sincok glanced once at Anthony, then once at Hermione, hoisted his robes, and followed after the witch.

When the long day was over, Hermione was glad to be rid of St. Mungo's. Healer Sincok had been incredibly rude and arrogant, thinking he constantly knew better than every staff member. He had single handedly ruined the research efforts in the second laboratory relating to burn charm testing by smashing the cauldron in which the new potion had been brewing for a month. After, he hadn't apologized, but rather yelled at people to clean it up. In the long-term patients ward, he had managed to scare the hell out of Mr. Lockhart, sending him back several paces in regaining his memory, simply by coming up to him with the demeanor of an excited fan. Mr. Lockhart had been so confused by Healer Sincok's exclamations that he had run out of the room, robes flying, and three trainee healers had to be sent after him. Healer Sincok merely laughed.

These mishaps were nothing, however, in the face of the children's ward. Healer Sincok obviously thought himself handsome and nice, but the children thought him scary, and Hermione quite agreed. Healer Sincok had tried to tell one of Beedle the Bard's tales to the children, but had made it so graphic and dark that not halfway through the story the children were wide-eyed and terrified. Hermione had had to signal Anthony to create a diversion and removed Healer Sincok so she could undo the damage by telling a sunshine and butter mellow story with bunny rabbits.

After discovering that Healer Sincok's people skills were lacking, Hermione also discovered that his organizational skills consisted of one motto: dump it on others. He had done nothing with the logistics of the division, had looked at the papers and turned around to go chat with someone. The board for tomorrow needed to be written up, requests from the staff reviewed and research summaries analyzed. All the work that a Healer-In-Charge should do. And since Healer Sincok hadn't done it, it meant that Hermione got to take home a large stack of papers and do the work herself, though she was not paid to do so.

If things were this bad with only Healer Sincok to ruin the her well-oiled division, imagine how they would be when Draco Malfoy showed up to do reviews. She shuddered at the thought. Why was he tormenting her by involving himself of every particular of her life? He not only made decisions about her career advancement, and showed up at her best friends' engagement party, but now he was cutting on her daily life starting the next week. And moreover, why did it irk her so? In reality, it probably had nothing to do with her. His career and hers were now intertwined, but so was his career with every other healer at St. Mungo's with a view for a promotion. And, yes, he had been at Harry and Ginny's engagement party, but realistically, who hadn't been? She wouldn't have been surprised if Blaise Zabini and Hannah Abbott had shown up, not that they had, but the scope of people Harry had invited certainly had been large. And let's be honest, he hadn't invaded her life in the parts most important – those of her family and friends. And he certainly wasn't going to show up in the muggle village in which she lived.

No, she was exaggerating these things. There was no earthly reason besides work that they should be thrown together. Besides, even if they were, there was no reason that him showing up was unsettling in any way. Right? Hermione pushed the thoughts from the front of her mind and settled into the paperwork in front of her.

Before she could focus, a conversation between her and Anthony on the way out of Mungo's that evening replayed in her mind's eye.

"That Healer Sincok is quite the charmer," Anthony had a wide grin on his face, and Hermione knew he was teasing."

"Yes, he has about as much charm as a blast-ended skrewt. And as much tact as Ronald Weasley." She replied, dripping with disdain.

"Wow. That's quite a zinger. Don't let our new boss hear you. He might fire you, and then we'd be in real trouble for reviews."

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him. He deserves that awful name of his. Healer Sincok. It's a wonder his family didn't change their surname. Besides that, I'm not worried about reviews, as long as we can keep the new Healer-In-Charge caged up when that ferret visits."

"Ferret? What are you talking about?"

"The ferret, you know, Draco Malfoy, don't you remember? Mad-eye Moody changed him into a ferret after he insulted Harry, and you and I—"

"I wasn't there, Hermione," Anthony said softly, "I think you're thinking of Ron Weasley." There was a bit of an awkward pause, but Anthony quickly remedied it, "But ferret, eh? I didn't know you disliked Draco Malfoy so much. I was under the impression that he wasn't that bad of a guy, after he got through the war."

Hermione pursed her lips and kept walking forward. Anthony noticed and gave a wry smile, "You really don't like him, do you?" at another non-reply from Hermione, he shrugged, "Alright then, I won't mention him. Even if I don't understand it." Less than a few minutes later they had each apparated home.

It was as Hermione sat at her kitchen table with the stack of papers in front of her, mechanically moving through each one, that she heard a knock at her front door. Curious, she wrapped the blanket tighter around her and shuffled to the door. Looking through the peephole, she saw Trent Smith standing nervously on the front step. Before Hermione could reach the doorknob, a blur of brown hair rushed past her and Anna knocked her sister out of the way, reaching for the doorknob herself.

"Hold it." Hermione put a hand on Anna's. "Where are you going?"

Anna had a guilty expression on her face, and Hermione could see, now that Anna was wearing a rather skimpy dress and had her hair and make-up done. "Out?" Anna said tentatively. Hermione crossed her arms, tapping her foot on the ground, and Anna gave her sister a defiant look.

"Anna, at least go put some real clothes on… you know as well as I do that no matter how much you like this guy, or how much fun you would like to have, that once term's up your mother is going to call you back home and insist on your engagement." Anna glared at Hermione, eyes narrowing, but turned and huffed up the stairs to change. Hermione opened the door to see a still nervous Trent.

"Good evening," Hermione said coolly, letting Trent inside. Apparently, the fact that she had an old blanket wrapped around her did not make her less intimidating. As a matter of fact, Trent seemed more nervous at the sight of Anna's older sister.

"I'm here to pick up Anna," Trent said, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking the tiniest bit on his feet, "Is she around?"

An idea popped into Hermione's head, an idea that Anna would loath, but it bubbled out before she could stop herself, "She's getting ready for our outing."

Trent looked slightly confused and taken aback, "Are you joining… us?"

Hermione smiled broadly, "Yes, of course. Anna thought we might go to the new Italian restaurant downtown. If you'll excuse me for a minute, though, as you can see from my blanket, I've neglected getting ready." And Hermione went upstairs, leaving a confused boy behind her. Hermione excused the meddling in her mind by firmly telling herself that it was for Anna's sake that she would go with, so that Anna didn't get her heart squashed when she _did_ have to go back to pureblood society. After all, Anna didn't have an escape from the society like Hermione had. There was no muggle family for Anna to run back to, no Harry and Ron to help her cope. All of Anna's life was in the society that her mother ran. Hermione was protecting her by going with, and halting this before it went too far.

As soon as Hermione emerged at the top of the stares, Anna's eyes glared at her, and her sister hissed, "What are you doing?"

"Coming with you and your friend to dinner. You don't mind, do you? Good."

Anna caught Hermione's arm as she walked to her room. "Hold it, sister. If you are going to gate-crash our _date_ then for Merlin's sake don't just be a third wheel. Invite one of your friends to come along so there's an even number."

Hermione smiled gently, "Don't worry, I know just who to ask. And by the way, your friend is standing down in the foyer by himself."

"We could have been leaving if you hadn't decided to meddle!" Anna hissed at Hermione's retreating back, but Hermione was apparently unaware as she went to change and send a quick owl.

The three of them were already seated at the new restaurant, _Gli Uccelli_, when Anthony Goldstein walked in, grinning. Hermione smiled in response and got up to great him.

"Thanks for joining us on such short notice, Anthony," Hermione gave him a hug, did short introductions of the young couple to her coworker, and the four sat down to have a wonderful dinner, which was occasionally punctuated by awkward comments on behalf of Hermione and Anthony, which made the younger two blush. Regardless, Trent took Anna's hand somewhere into the second course, and did not relent it even when they got up to leave.

What they didn't see was a familiar face two tables away, looking at the young couple with interest. Let's just say that Draco Malfoy had not expected Anna Lane to pick up a boyfriend so quickly after her excursion into the muggle world, regardless of her mother's plans for her. Perhaps he should do something about that.

* * *

Hello lovely readers and thank you for staying with me thus far! I know my author's notes have been few and far between, I can hardly believe we're up to chapter eleven already!

I can't tell you how much I appreciate your input and comments on my work and hopefully a few of you reviewers will appreciate the next couple chapters :)

A last thanks to my beta, Flossey, who has found time between writing her own fic to edit mine!

~Liza Lew~


	13. Chapter 12: The Interview

**Chapter Twelve: The Interview**

Usually, when Hermione made her way to Diagon Alley for lunch, it was to meet a friend. It was when Ginny would drag her to Madam Malkin's while recounting the latest Hollyhead Harpies match, or Luna would explain all the wonderful creatures and plants she had recently discovered on her journeys over Florian Fortescue's ice cream. Sometimes Neville would tell tales of his Hogwarts students and their mishaps with various magical plants while at the apothecary to stock up, or Ron and Harry would recount their excursions catching dark wizards while dragging her to look at the newest Nimbus at Quidditch Quality Supplies.

Today, however, she wasn't going to meet a friend, precisely. She was going to meet an acquaintance, for an interview of sorts. She had responded to Asteria's owl the previous day, and had been instructed to meet the witch at a café with brightly colored umbrellas at the far end of the alley that day for lunch. Putting her most neutral mask on, Hermione approached the café with caution, seeing the beautiful witch sitting and sipping a lemonade.

Asteria's face lit up as Hermione approached, "Healer Granger! I am so glad you could make it!" Asteria bounded up as Hermione walked forward, ignoring Hermione's outstretched hand and instead hugging the fellow witch. Hermione smiled despite herself.

"How could I bow out on such an invitation? If your piece is published, it will help shed some light on the fact that witches work just as hard if not harder than our wizard counterparts. It's the kind of equality I've been lobbying for, for years. In fact, if I wasn't trained as a healer, I would have gone in to magical law just for that purpose."

"Oh," Asteria's eyes were wide, "That's a wonderful quote. I hadn't meant to start the interview right away, but do you mind horribly if I scratch that one down?" she was getting out parchment and quill as she spoke.

Hermione smiled and nodded. As Asteria wrote, a waiter came up to take Hermione's order. By the time he had turned away, Asteria was finished and looking back up at Hermione. "I've heard so much about you, Healer Granger, you know. I can't tell you how amazing it is to sit down with you like this."

Hermione blushed, "I'm sure it was all exaggerated."

Asteria smiled gently, as if she knew what was going through Hermione's mind, "But it couldn't have been, because, you see, Draco never exaggerates."

Hermione was incredibly grateful that the waiter cut in at just that moment to bring her and Asteria's lunch, and hastily changed the subject just as they began to eat, "So you travelled the last few years?"

"Yes, first across Europe, to meet up with some relatives. I was in Zurich for quite some time, at the University, staying with an aunt, as well as Sicily with a second-cousin. I believe you know her; Miss Chels Arina?"

Hermione smiled at the thought of her wayward cousin, "Yes, I do. I met her the summer I visited your society. We kept in touch via owl for some years after, but I haven't heard from her now since before the war. I was under the impression that she is making her own way in the world."

"She's not doing what her parents particularly wish, if that's what you mean," Asteria giggled, "she's living on her own in an old family manor out in the countryside. Her profit is all through the vineyard on the estates. I believe she has told her mother she does not wish to be 'married off to some snooty society type.' And hence ran off. The estate is in her name, so she's set for life if she so chooses."

Hermione smiled, "And I suppose she's as wild as she's always been?"

Asteria's eyes twinkled, "A bit." She paused, during which the two ladies ate their lunch, then asked a question, "I am curious…" Asteria seemed slightly embarrassed, "you're friends with Harry Potter, correct? And Ginny Weasley of the Hollyhead Harpies?"

"Yes," Hermione got this question quite often, people were always interested in her connections to other famous witches and wizards of the war, "They're like a brother and sister to me."

"Really?" Asteria's eyes were wide, "Do you know then, is their engagement for sure?"

"I believe they're getting married come January."

"That's marvelous," Asteria still seemed a little embarrassed, as if trying to avoid the fact that she was gossiping, and her next question to Hermione was whether they could start the official interview, which they did.

When Hermione got to Harry's the next Friday, she was exhausted. Arriving later than usual, even Ron was there when she arrived. She hadn't even bothered to change out of her healer's lime green robes. She had been doing Healer Sincok's work all week, on top of her own job. Even Neville noticed her tiredness as she sat down at the table.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Neville patted her on the shoulder. Hermione smiled weakly, gently patted his hand, and didn't respond as the other five continued to bring food to the table. Neville withdrew his support as they tucked in.

"Really though, Hermione, why are you so exhausted?" Harry asked, concern flickering in his emerald eyes.

Hermione placed the roll she was buttering down on her plate, "It's this new Healer-In-Charge. He doesn't do his work, and messes up everyone else's to boot. I'm doing his job and mine along withcleaning up after his messes. I've had to withdraw from my university class this semester because I can't even make it once a week to audit. I'll be glad when my time at Mungo's is over."

"Why would it be over soon?" Luna asked a bit airily.

Hermione blushed, "Oh. I forgot to mention it to everyone. I'm applying to Healer-In-Charge positions at other hospitals. I can't stand working another set of who-knows-how-many years as just a resident healer."

"That's our Hermione, always striving to be better," Harry patted her on the back.

"Fo 'ere are moo applying, Her-miney?" Ron was eating generous helpings of food as he spoke.

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked up at Ginny, who shrugged as if to say, _Some thing never change, so what're you going to do about it?_ Hermione began listing off hospitals, "Well, the Circe Medical Facility in Prague has an opening for a research position in the spell damage division, which is a bit different than I've been doing; that one's a long shot. I checked at the Merlin Emergency Center in Geneva, but they're not hiring, unless you have a connection. There's a small hospital in Sicily that's looking for a Healer-In-Charge of the joint creature incident and spell damage division, that should be right up my alley; and one or two others along the Mediterranean. I'm still waiting to hear back from the inquiries I sent out at the beginning of the week. Problem is, despite my solid references, for most of the big hospitals, those along the lines of St. Mungo's, you need connections, which I don't have."

Ron swallowed the remaining food in his mouth and said, wide-eyed, "But those are all over Europe. You'll have to leave Britain." Hermione gave Ron a gentle smile, but did not answer. It was Ginny who spoke next, "Is there anything we can do, Hermione?"

She responded with a small, sad smile, saying, "Not really; I doubt the connections that famous quidditch players, Hogwarts professors, naturalists or Aurors have are exactly the ones I'm looking for. But thanks, guys."

She turned to look directly into Harry's green eyes. "You'll let us know, though, if there's anything we can do?"

"Of course."

Ginny tactfully tried to change the subject, "So, Neville, what adventures have your first years had this week?"

But before Neville could answer, Ron cut in, "The Lefay Hopitale, Hermione! Did you ever think? They're only in Paris, not too far, a few hours at most!"

"I'm afraid they're more elite than Mungo's." Hermione grimaced, "I'd need a miracle to get me in there."

"Speaking of miracles," Ginny was changing the subject again, "Luna and I found the most perfect bridesmaids' dresses. We wanted you to see them, though, before we commissioned Madam Malkin to make one in your size. So, you're coming with me the next day that you don't have rounds and I don't have practice. And prepare yourself; they're Gryffindor ruby." Hermione grinned in spite of herself, and the friends tucked in to another happy evening.

"You're sure of this?" Elizabeth Lane looked cross, more so than usual. Her best friend and godson across from her were also concerned.

"Yes," he stood across from her, standing in the presence of the two older women. He was dressed in a wizard's robes this evening, he could hardly see his godmother without proper attire. They were, naturally, emerald green, which made his pale hair all the blonder, "I'm not mistaken."

Narcissa sighed and looked back at Elizabeth, nearly ignoring the man between them. "Well, that changes things, my dear."

"Yes, yes it does," Elizabeth stood, and walked quietly over the broad windows. The glass panels stretched floor-to-ceiling, dwarfing the brunette looking through them. The sky on the other side was nearly dark, and had a grayish hue to it, looking not quite well. Here and there, small holes in the cloudy layer showed the earliest stars of the evening in the sky. After gazing for a moment, she put a hand to her chin, bent her head a bit, and began to pace.

Narcissa came up behind her friend and grasped her shoulders, halting her walk. "You know what needs to be done," she said quietly, and then turned to the man standing in the room, "My dear, thank you for telling us what has transpired. Could you run and fetch one of the servants to bring tea? Dear Elizabeth will need something to calm her nerves. This has thrown a kink in our plans."

Before he turned to go, he looked Narcissa straight in the eyes, "You know my opinion. It would be the best option, even if it is not to all parties' … satisfaction."

Narcissa pursed her lips, "Of course I know your opinion. Now shoo, for the two of us must get to work, and soon call the other necessary people. Oh, and darling, don't report on this until it is officially completed and announced." He sighed, but turned from the room nonetheless.

Elizabeth turned to Narcissa the instant he left. "I cannot bear this. It is too much for a mother to take."

"Hush. We will correct this mishap straight away. There need be nothing to worry about." Narcissa patted Elizabeth on the back as both ladies sat down and tea was laid before them.

"I certainly hope so. Our family cannot afford another Hermione."

Elizabeth did not see Narcissa avert her gaze and shift her positions at the mention of Healer Granger. Nor did she notice when Narcissa immediately changed the topic back to the issue at hand, and firmly disregarded any comments about Miss Granger for the rest of the evening.


	14. Chapter 13: The Rampage

**Chapter Thirteen: The Rampage**

A blood-piercing scream broke the silence that was Hermione Granger's dreamless sleep, and a second one caused he to jump and run down the stairs in her nightgown as fast as her feet would carry her, wand out and hair frizzy. "Anna! Anna? Are you okay?" Hermione burst into the kitchen to see an awake, dressed, and mortified Anna standing in the kitchen and petrified by the contents of the letter in her hand.

"B-b-but but I—" Anna let the letter fall from her hand, still frozen in place like a doll, a look of horror on her face and stuttering words barely forming in her mouth. Hermione grabbed Anna's face and inspected her eyes, looking to see if the effect was magical or emotional. Deducing that it was not a spell, but only shock, Hermione gently guided her sister to a seat at the kitchen table and went to put the tea on.

By the time the tea was whistling and Hermione set a cup of peppermint before her sister, Anna had regained the ability to slightly move, although she still could not seem to string words into sentences. Hermione finally broke the silence.

"Anna, what is it? What's happened? Please talk, dear, or I shan't be able to help."

Anna took a sip of tea, then shakily set her cup back down in front of her, "Can't help." She said quietly, looking into the cup at the dregs.

"What's happened then? At least talk of it, you may feel better."

Anna looked up at Hermione, then down at her cup again. "I'm engaged," she mumbled quietly.

"Well," said Hermione tentatively, "That's exciting then."

"To someone I don't know."

"Oh. Well then, you can get to know them, and if it's not right, I'm sure you can figure a way out of it, before the society announcement and such. If you talk to your mother."

Anna's face darkened, "Can't."

"But…"

"Mother's used a marriage contract. She was too afraid, after what happened with you and Draco, to leave it to chance. I won't even see him until she decides. Probably the day of the wedding or the engagement announcement or something."

"But… there must be a way to stop it."

Anna got up from the table, "There isn't. You didn't grown up in pureblood society. Once a marriage contract is signed, it's like an unbreakable vow. If the terms aren't met by the written date, you die. There's no magic that can undo it. It was a tool used in times when witches and wizards weren't kept in secret, to ensure the continuation of magical lines. It seems mother has searched through the library to find the spells again. Ironic, really, how alike the two of you are despite your not speaking to each other. Ambitious brunettes with a knack for reading and knowing more than you ought. Of course, your powers haven't been used for evil yet. Funny how I'm the odd one, seeing as I grew up with mother, but someone had to have a sense of humor."

Anna gave an unnatural smile, "Although I did inherit her knack for plotting. If you'll excuse me, I need to drop out of school, break-up with the boy I'm dating and pack, as the Mother requests I return home and partake in society." And she left, with the look of a slightly deranged person on her face.

Curious, Hermione picked up the letter that lay on the ground.

_My dear Anna,_

_Your father and I immediately request your presence at Lane Mansion in order to prepare you for the announcement of your engagement to the Krieger heir in three months' time. You have much to learn, and your robes must be fitted, if you are to be in a proper state to meet your fiancée's family._

_I feel it is also necessary to inform you that, due to the urging of your godmother and particularly her son, this engagement has been signed in a marriage contract to ensure its success. I am affirmed by both that the Krieger heir will, though of a lesser family, be a suitable match for you, and is of outstanding character._

_Your__fiancé__himself is currently__traveling__, and will return on an unspecified date, at which time you will be formally introduced._

_Your Mother_

Your godmother. Narcissa Malfoy. Her son. Draco Malfoy. The name seared her mind like burnt flesh from a skrewt. So he was responsible for the marriage contract, and the choice of a particular suitor. She should have known. Their families had been highly interconnected for generations, according to Elizabeth. Of course Elizabeth would council with Narcissa over what to do, and turn to Draco to learn the characters of those in his generation. But to suggest a marriage contract… how could he! If make the life of one of the sisters was not enough, he had to ruin both lives!

A loveless marriage, for Anna. Anna, who was always so full of life, jumping at opportunities, going it on instinct, quick, witty and passionate Anna. Stuck in a marriage in which she had no choice or say, all because of Draco Malfoy suggesting it! After all, he had seen his own younger sister, Phe, who was younger than Anna, married off young to a snooty society boy in line to inherit millions. Why would he treat the younger sisters of anyone else differently? Thank Merlin that Ginny and Harry were already engaged so Malfoy couldn't interfere with the youngest Weasley.

She had had enough. He had messed with her career, and her public image. That was fine. But now,he had also messed with the happiness of her family. She was going to get some answers, Healer Sincok or no. Without sending an owl to Mungo's, without doing her hair or make-up, without having anything to eat, Hermione Granger threw on some robes, tossed her hair up, and apparated to the wizarding office on the end of Licorpante Street.

There were very few wizards and witches on the street itself, but the lobby of the office building was full of wizards in both robes and business attire making their way to meetings and offices. Not bothering to buzz up, she marched to the lift and out on the floor where Malfoy's office was. Not even waiting to knock, she opened the door to ... a empty room. Frowning, she didn't noticed the mousey-looking witch behind her until she tapped Hermione on the shoulder and began to speak.

"Begging your pardon, ma'am, but are you Healer Granger?"

"I am."

"Mister Malfoy begs me to let you know he is out of the office for the week, but said you may come by, and if so, to give you this," the witch handed her a thick envelope of very nice parchment, bowed, and then left. Apparently, there would be no interrogating Malfoy this week. She probably wouldn't see him until next weekend, at, she remembered with a jolt, his engagement party. Closing her eyes, she apparated home.

Once there, she determined that she was in no fit state to do Healer Sincok's job. Instead, she owled Anthony to say she was calling in sick, and tucked down with a book to wait for Anna's return, leaving the envelope on a bookshelf, forgotten.

She didn't have long to wait. Anna returned within the hour, and wordlessly joined Hermione in the book-room, picking up a volume of her own to begin reading. The only words she said during the afternoon were "His aunt said that he left absurdly early this morning to go visit his father for the week. I leave tomorrow morning at eight." The sisters spent one last day together, reading.


	15. Chapter 14: The Announcement

**Chapter Fourteen: The Announcement**

Hermione arrived to Malfoy Manor dressed to impress. Her dress was classic, simply black, strapless, and floor-length. The top twisted the silky fabric around into a sweetheart neckline and the skirt was A-line and flowing, the layer of silk cut so that the left side slightly eclipsed the right in the skirt, and was held in place by a pearl clasp. She had accented it with multiple long, pearl necklaces laced with black silk ribbon and simple pearl studs. She had a black silk clutch her hand, and a sheer black wrap around her shoulders that sparkled as the light flickered on it. Her normal height was boosted by peep-toe black heels, and her hair was perfectly curled, pulled up in an elegant twist. She could hardly believe she was standing in front of the open doors to the place where, six years ago, she would have been the one on the arm of Draco Malfoy.

In the week since she had attempted to hunt down Draco Malfoy, and her younger sister had returned to Lane Mansion, Hermione's life had been entirely consumed by work. By day, she did the job of Healer-In-Chief of her division at St. Mungo's while Healer Sincok insulted those around him and messed up project after project. Her only relief during the day was Anthony's stubbornly cheerful attitude and help. At night, she sent out inquiries for a new job, and had even received a few responses, though none as promising as she had hoped. And, through all the work and stress, she had made it to the one event that indescribably caused her the most stress out of any of it: the engagement party for Draco Malfoy and Asteria Greengrass. Taking a deep breath and praying that at least one of her friends was already mingling in the ballroom, Hermione stepped inside.

Under the starless sky, the open doors led into a foyer of white marble floors leading up to a grand, sweeping staircase carpeted with the deepest emerald green. The double doorways to either side, Hermione knew, led to parlors and sitting rooms, among them the family library. Those carved mahogany doors were shut, barring the rooms from view. The focus was on the entrances to either side of the grand staircase, detailed archways, one on either side, which led to the vast ballroom. Noting that the Greengrass family, including the slightly awkward Daphne, stood to greet guests to the left archway, Hermione chose to go to the right to be greeted by Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.

Narcissa's face lit up the moment she saw Hermione, who noticed it with a quizzical brow. Even Lucius Malfoy's interest was obviously peaked when Hermione drew near.

"Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione said, "thank you for the invitation this evening, it was most generous."

"Oh, it was nothing," Narcissa waved a handkerchief and smiled, "we are delighted that you are here, Healer Granger. I don't think I've seen you in years, you look quite spectacular tonight my dear."

"I… thank you, Mrs. Malfoy."

Narcissa simply nodded and smiled, and then turned to greet the next guests as Hermione entered the ballroom. The two-story open room was massive and brilliantly lit by brass chandeliers and candelabras, the light flickering in a romantic tone. The dance floor was as of yet empty, the engaged couple would start the first dance after the announcement in about an hour's time, but the edges of the room and side chambers were filled to the brim with witches and wizards of all backgrounds in every color imaginable.

Though the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that comprised the entire opposite wall and the sweeping marble staircase across from them were the same as they had been years ago, the variety of people that filled the room was one that Hermione had never seen in the same place at the same time.

To one side were the snobby purebloods who refused to mingle with anyone less pure; she could tell from the distain on their faces and the demur colors of their clothes. Near the doors leading to the lawn and garden were the younger folks, still Hogwarts age, obvious from their energy and bounding about between people and places. It seemed not one of them was quiet or still. The rest of the guests were spread throughout the room, mingling and nibbling on appetizers. Hermione noticed a flash of red hair to one corner, and made a beeline in that direction, sighing with relief.

"Ron!" The tall red-head turned around, and Hermione saw, with some distain, that the girls surrounding him were Lavender Brown and the Patil twins. Ron, however, did not noticed the brief flinch from Hermione, but smiled brilliantly, and engulfed his friend in a hug.

"Hermione! You made it! Boy this place brings back memories, doesn't it?"

"It sure does, Ron," Hermione did not pursue the topic, however, and turned to greet her old classmates.

After the last of the guests had trickled in, Narcissa disappeared upstairs and was now fretting over her son, who was patiently standing before her in dress robes on the landing in front of the grand stairway. She was in the middle of re-doing his tie for the fourth time, a slightly crazed expression on her face, as he rolled his eyes.

"Mother, really, I'm fine. Asteria and I are being announced any minute, you need to let go. My dress robes and hair have never been in better shape." Despite his reassurances, he ran a hand through his hair, just to check.

Narcissa finally stepped back, and sighed, looking Draco over, "Oh, I suppose you're right. You'll knock any witch off her feet, no matter how stubborn."

"I hope you're talking about me," Asteria giggled as she came up to the landing, "although I've never considered myself stubborn."

Narcissa didn't answer, but gave a strained smile in the girl's direction, and turned to go to her waiting husband. As she took Lucius' arm, she turned back to Draco, "Be nice to your guests, Draco."

Asteria smiled up at her fiancé at this, but Draco saw a glimmer behind his mother's eyes. The same glimmer as before. If only he knew what exactly she was planning. Judging from her recent behavior, it had nothing to do with the girl currently settling her vice-grip on his arm. He sighed, and turned to face the double-doors which, when opened, would lead on to the grand staircase that swept on to the ballroom floor.

Draco's mind wandered back to another staircase, in another manor, in another time. Six years ago, in a similar atrium, Draco had stood with a nervous Hermione. As they watched, the left door had opened in front of them, just as now.

_Everything was white marble with dark blue fabrics. A huge, sweeping staircase covered in a runner of velvet blue made its way from the grand, ornate doors all the way down to the ballroom floor, which was massive, closed on either side by floor-to-ceiling windows that showed the moonlight outside.__The__ceiling itself, which__ must have stood __taller than three stories, was beautifully painted in a scene from Shakespeare's A Mid-Summer Night's Dream. Pillars of grey marble stood from floor to ceiling on either side of the many-paned windows and far across the room one each side of the doors which led to the dining hall._

This time, the left door opened to admit Lucius and Narcissa, and the scene in front of them was a dark marble stair with an emerald green runner. The columns and dining hall were absent, and instead the open doorways on either side of the ballroom led to antechambers and sitting rooms. The floating candles gave it a romantic glow, and illuminated the mosaic ceiling. He could just see the crowd of guest gathered at the bottom and Lucius began to speak, "Welcome, friends, guests, to the engagement party of my son…"

Six years ago, it had been the herald who had welcomed and announced the couples. _A lone wizard stood at the top of the stairs with a long roll of parchment in his hands. He read, "We now present to you the newly arriving pairs of this Social Season of Europe's Distinguished Wizarding Society."_

This evening, Draco held the hand of a confident witch, who knew exactly what she was doing, determination on her pretty face and not a hair out of place. Six years ago, he had been whispering instructions to the most nervous partner he had ever had, who was fretfully checking her appearance at every opportunity.

_Hermione knitted her eyebrows, "I don't remember reading about this. . ."_

_"You wouldn't," said Draco, "It's a tradition that's not taught until you're in it. The returning couples enter the Opener through the left door after the rest of society is already in the great hall. Then the host family announces the start of the season, and the new couples come in through the doors both opened. In order of least important to most."_

_"Oh," said Hermione quietly._

Tonight, Lucius and Narcissa expressed their thanks for the presence of all their guests, and wished them a comfortable and enjoyable evening, then began giving the announcement of their son's engagement, just as the herald had announced the couple so many years ago…

_"From the First-Rank House of Danforth, the First-Rank House of Black, the Second-Rank House of Lane, descended from the line of Merlin, Miss Hermione Jane Granger and From the First-Rank House of Malfoy and the First-Rank House of Black, the esteemed Mister Draco Lucius Malfoy."_

Draco proudly took the girl's arm and walked forward as the double doors opened wide, as the memory and the present tense melded into one time and place. He smiled brilliantly as they walked down the emerald-carpeted stairs, and stood proud and tall, he looked out over the guests. The girl next to him was holding him tightly as he guided her down the stairway. He and Hermione had made it, and even after all the happenings of years past, of the failed proposal, of the war and working together, he was here, where he wanted to be, with the witch he wanted to have…

And then he looked straight into the chocolate-brown eyes of Hermione Granger, standing in the front row of guests, dressed in a beautiful and elegant black dress, ten feet away from him, not smiling back at him, and _not_ the girl on his arm. He was jolted out of memory and looked at the girl he was escorting. Her hair was blonde and sleek, not brown and curly; her figure tall and slim rather than short and petite. She was nearly giggling with anticipation instead of solemn with nerves. She was his fiancée. And she was _not_ Hermione Jane Granger.

Draco faltered, stopping in his tracks, a confused look in his eyes. The girl next to him looked up at him, questioning, and offered him her hand. Draco looked over her shoulder at the brunette in the black dress, and took a deep breath. He was marrying the girl in front of him. Never mind that he couldn't remember her name at the moment. He glanced over the girl's shoulder again, and saw Anthony Goldstein behind Hermione, whispering something in her ear. She giggled, and Draco felt himself blush. He looked down at the girl in front of him, and took the offered hand. And so, Draco Malfoy and his fiancée began the first dance of the night.

Hermione was nervous with anticipation. She couldn't quite say why, but she could feel herself shaking slightly. Her mind kept making jumps back to the night of her almost-Coming Out. Every time she turned to see a glimpse of the gardens, she had flashbacks of the night she walked away from this society. Every time she saw the sweeping staircase, she remembered the announcement of her and Draco as a couple. Every time she saw groups of Hogwarts-age witches giggling, she remembered the airhead flirts whose only goal was to get married. She felt like she was on edge, twitching at every signal, barely paying attention to Lavendar's stories and Ron's chortling laughter.

Harry and Ginny were absent, as were Luna and Neville. She had been so sure they would show up, but she hadn't caught a single glimpse of them. Ron was so caught up in the ladies in front of him that he hadn't noticed her discomfort. She needed a friend, to calm her down, distract her. There was no earthly reason why she should be so fidgety. She scanned the room for the three-hundredth time to see if there was another friend, but again came up with nothing. Even Anna, who was supposed to be reintegrated into pureblood society, was no where to be seen.

Hermione leaned against the wall behind her and closed her eyes for thirty seconds, blocking out every trigger, sight and sound.

"Falling asleep already, Hermione? But the party hasn't even started."

Hermione smiled and opened her eyes to see Anthony Goldstein standing there, offering her a glass of champagne.

"Thanks," she mumbled.

"No problem," he said, toasting her, "to an interesting night, right?"

"Yeah," Hermione smiled weakly, returning his toast, and adding under her breath, "to a very interesting night."

Despite her own comment and the triggers around her, she felt herself calm down in the presence of a friend, and decided she may be able to handle this after all. It was not ten minutes later that the crowd began gathering around the grand staircase to see the announcement, and Hermione found herself very front and center of the guests. She hardly realized it, because Anthony kept her occupied until the couple of the hour descended the staircase in front of her.


	16. Chapter 15: The Kiss

**Chapter Fifteen: The Kiss**

As Draco spun with his fiancée, he continued to look over her shoulder at Hermione, who was now laughing at one of Anthony's jokes. The dance floor, meanwhile, had been filled by various couples, but he was oblivious to them all until Anthony Goldstein gave a silly bow to a laughing Hermione, and took her hand to lead her on to the dance floor.

Draco, not paying attention, accidentally stepped on Asteria's foot. She glared briefly at Draco, but them her complexion turned to a sweet smile, "You seem distracted, sweet. Why don't you sit out for the next two, I did promised Blaise to dance with him this evening. Last time I'm really single, you know."

Draco didn't verbally respond, but rather nodded, and led her off the dance floor and into the arms of his friend. Once the two had returned to the dance floor and the lively tune, Draco resumed watching Hermione and Anthony, and a brooding expression came over his face. As he was standing there, someone clasped him on the shoulder from behind.

"Congratulations, Mafloy." Draco turned to see Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley standing there, arm in arm, grinning at him.

"I… thanks, Potter," Draco extended a hand to Harry, who shook it. A smirk came over Draco's face, "couldn't be long outdone, you know."

Harry smiled, "I know. Now, seeing as we just got here, I'm going to take this young lady out to dance before the floor is closed for dinner."

Draco nodded, and Harry took Ginny by the hand to lead her out to the dance floor. Draco found himself smiling slightly at how awkwardly the two Gryffindors danced to the upbeat music, but found that within a minute the song had changed to a slow, romantic tempo, and something in his heart squeezed at the look of the two not-so-spectacular dancers look at each other and draw close to sway to the music. Shaking his head, and turning away from the Gryffindors, he saw, out of the corner of his eye, Anthony Goldstein offer his hand to Hermione for the slow dance. Without thinking, without looking to see if his fiancée was engaged, he walked over two the two and tapped Anthony on the shoulder, bowing slightly to him.

"Do you mind if I cut in?"

Anthony had a confused expression on his face, but acquiesced, letting Draco take Hermione's hand. Anthony turned away, and walked to ask a girl on the side if she would like to dance. Hermione met Draco's eyes with an icy glare, and he happily ignored the distain in them.

"Enjoying the party?" Draco asked, slightly bemused. He had seen this look before, she was annoyed about something, and the easiest way to deal with it was usually by trying to cheer her up.

"I was," Hermione looked away from him, out at the splendor of the dance floor, and tried to ignore how close he was to her. She was not going to allow anything to tempt her to like the man who had ruined, perhaps forever, the happiness of her sister.

"Well, you look wonderful tonight," Draco smiled with ease, and Hermione ignored him. Draco sighed, and after a brief silence said, "It's your turn to talk now, Miss Granger. I've asked you how you like the ball, and complimented your choice of attire. You may now remark on the room or on the number of couples."

Hermione's head snapped back and she locked eyes with Draco, "Do you talk by rule then, while dancing?" she no longer had an angry tone, but had relaxed into a playful one.

"Sometimes it is best." He smiled, and spun her out and back in. When she came close to him, he added quietly, "though other times, I prefer lively conversation."

The two broke apart as the song ended, and Hermione curtseyed briefly to the Slytherin as he bowed back, and she replied, as icy as before, "The you'd best return to your fiancée and enjoy her smiles."

She turned and left, leaving Draco standing in the middle of the dance floor, only to be attacked by Asteria a minute later, who had given up Blaise in search of her fiancé.

As Hermione threaded her way through the crowd an hour later, searching for her table, she found her name at a circular one close to the high table and groaned inwardly. Already seated at the table were Cormac McLaggen, Lavendar Brown and Ronald Weasley. Thinking she could have dealt with the latter two, but Cormac made it all the worse, the situation got even more pleasant when she saw Oliver Wood sit down next to Ron right as she came up to the table.

Ron and Oliver, talking quidditch already, looked up as Hermione approached, and both smiled. "'Mione, I'm glad you're here! Harry and Ginny are way over on the opposite side of the room with Neville and Luna, they got here late; I'd thought they'd forgotten you and I until I found this table!" He then turned back to Oliver Wood, who had nodded briefly to Hermione.

Hermione smiled weakly and noticed her seat was right next to Cormac's. Setting herself down, Cormac turned from explaining his greatest triumphs and quidditch expertise to Lavendar, who was listening avidly, to shortly greet her, and Hermione found herself watching the crowd.

She saw the Patil twins, arm in arm, make a beeline for her table and figured that at least they were somewhat normal. They also greeted Hermione and began arguing among themselves, leaving an empty space between Padma and Hermione for one more person. Steeling herself to look at the name tag, she saw only one word before deciding that whoever had done the table arrangements had it in for her. All but one of her ex-boyfriends and ex-dormmates was sitting at this very table with her. Secretly blaming it on Draco, although the larger part of her knew that he had nothing to do with seating arrangements, she greeted Viktor Krum with a smile and began chatting with him on the latest ministry positions.

Draco watched with interest as the table to his left filled. He'd known that Hermione would be there, he had peeked at his mother's seating arrangements the other night, but had failed to connect the dots. Sitting with Hermione were the sidekick Weasley, the buff Krum, the idiot McLaggen and even annoyingly dashing Oliver Wood, all of which Hermione had dated at one point or another. He supposed he should just be thankful that Anthony Goldstein had scored a seat at the healer's table rather than the random Gryffindors table (except for Krum, which he didn't understand the placement of), but nonetheless found himself watching each of the men as they interacted with Hermione in turn.

Draco barely noticed the toasts and announcements before the feast, nor even the food which the house elves had prepared, or Asteria chattering into his ear, nor Pansy and Goyle bickering on his left. Even his mother giving instructions to his father on the end of the high table escaped his notice. Instead, he spent a good portion of the meal looking at a certain Gryffindor.

Hermione, a table away, didn't notice Draco's watching. She instead found that, despite the slight awkward placement of the people around her, that they were a very entertaining group when put together. Ron always had a funny, sarcastic line, to add to the the stories Cormac gave, and Lavendar and the Patils' enthusiasm for the stories and responses were equally entertaining. Krum's infrequent comments were thoughtful, and usually insightful, and Oliver Wood seemed to balance the entire group by tactfully smoothing comments over so that no one was insulted. Hermione soon found herself laughing and enjoying the evening, forgetting the earlier encounter in the ballroom.

Poor Anthony, on the other hand, was placed with Healer Sincok and several other healers from the Spell Damage division at St. Mungo's, all of which were terrified of the new Healer-In-Charge, and thus did nothing except nod, and listen to Healer Sincok's stories. It was thus that Anthony heard nearly all of Healer Sincok's life story, including every triumph he'd had from Beauxbatons through his residency and on to his medical research career. Near the end of the evening, Anthony was instructed to take notes on how Healer Sincok wished to change the division, and being that there was no parchment or quill nearby, he took notes with his wand on a napkin.

When the meal finally concluded, and guests began wandering back towards the ballroom, while many wandered off to the antechambers to converse or play cards, there was more than one couple that snuck off to the garden hand in hand. Harry and Ginny were one of the first to disappear, luckily escaping Ron's notice, who was making Lavendar Brown giggle again. Apparently, her broken heart from Hogwarts years was healed, and she was fully at his attention again, despite her muggle boyfriend.

Anthony slipped away from Healer Sincok as soon as possible, and found Hermione chatting with Oliver Wood, who was soon pulled away by his old quidditch teammates who were inquiring after his job as coach for the Chudley Cannons. Draco watched from afar as Anthony took a startled Hermione's hand, and led her out to the gardens. Feeling his heart beat faster at the sight of it, his attention was diverted by Asteria resuming her grip on him, and dragging him to socialize. When he looked again, the two healers had disappeared.

Hermione and Anthony were laughing as they ran through the hedges away from the horrified couple they had caught snogging in the rosebushes. The couple had been no more than fifth or sixth year students, and obviously were not supposed to be doing as such. Nearly doubled over in laughter, Hermione stopped in front of a fountain and gripped its edge for support.

"Imagine… the looks… on their pure-blood parents' face…" Hermione was trying to catch her breath, and Anthony was grinning.

"I'd no idea that the little Hogwarts students were up to no good,"

Hermione shoved him a bit, and smirked, "Yes you did. I'll bet when you pulled me out here you were wishing we could scare a few of them pretty well, us being grown-up healers."

Anthony shrugged, "Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't. You can believe what you wish." Hermione rolled her eyes and stood up straight to find herself very close to Anthony. He suddenly looked very nervous, and backed up an inch.

"Are you alright?" she asked, expression laced with worry.

"I… yeah," he paused for a moment, then stepped closer to her again, tentatively reaching his hand forward, then pulled it back, "I wonder…"

Hermione looked at him, up at his blue eyes and seemed to connect a circuit in her brain, as if a lightbulb came on and she realized something that she should have a long time ago, "Anthony…"

But before she could continue, he had leaned down and kissed her, ever so gently, and before she knew it, she was kissing him back.


	17. Chapter 16: The Confusion

**Chapter Sixteen: The Confusion**

The kiss deepened, and Hermione put her arms around his neck. Pleasure was flooding through her, and she remembered the last time she had been kissed in this very spot, under the full moon, standing next to the fountain she could faintly hear in the background. Draco Malfoy was a phenomenal kisser. He sent sparks through her entire body, causing not just the sensation of kissing, but pure joy every time their lips met. She moved her hand up to his hair, to run her fingers through it, and remembered the first time they had kissed.

_Hermione finished her favorite fairy tales by reading the words Happily Ever After. I wonder if it ever really happens, she thought, sighing and getting up. All of a sudden Hermione stopped, her eyes wide. Draco Malfoy was an inch away from her, looking down at her. She was paralyzed. She couldn't reach her wand. She couldn't even step away. He was meeting her eyes. She tried to look away. And then his hand tilted her head ever so slightly up. Then there wasn't any more distance between them._

_Both Hermione and Draco would remember that day for the rest of their lives. For Hermione, it was a shock. She had had no idea Draco had been thinking anything of the sort about her at any time during her life. He'd just been the ruthless Slytherin that she had to put up with. Not that the moment changed her opinion of him. No, not at all. Really. For Draco, it was a success. He knew he shouldn't have. And he knew she loathed him. But he, as much as it seemed, surely did not loath her. Not that he would ever admit it. Because everything after those few moments was brought crashing back to reality._

Then the reality of tonight came crashing down on her: she wasn't kissing Draco Malfoy. Her eyes snapped open, and she realized the pleasure running through her was not the same joy she remembered. It was the same pleasure from kissing Viktor, or Ron, but not the pure joy that had encompassed her for those scant months. Her hands fell and she drew back, pushing the man in front of her away.

He looked hurt and confused, standing in front of her and still holding her arms. She couldn't remember his name. She backed up, letting his arms fall to his side. She looked at his blue eyes, remembering another pair instead, and said very quietly, "I'm sorry." Then turned and ran down the all-too-familiar pathway through the hedges under the starless sky.

She ran past the couples making out, not seeing the shocked Rita on her perch near the rosebushes, through the patio area full with polite conversation, not hearing calls from Harry and Ginny, through the edge of the bustling ballroom, ignoring Ron and Luna's worried looks as they chased after her, and straight out of the archway to the front door, where she did not notice Narcissa, until she got to the point where she could apparate. Without saying goodbye to anyone, without thanking the hosts for the party, she apparated home and collapsed onto her welcoming bed, ballgown and all. It was then that she realized she was crying.

There was a shocked silence in the ballroom after the ungainly exit of Miss Granger. The mistro halted, and worried guests began quietly twittering. With the unsettlement of the party, Narcissa entered through the archway with a determined look on her face, and went up to the mistro, demanding he begin a living tune to distract from the did so, and couples hastily jumped together, but Narcissa's eyes found Draco's. He suddenly understand the looks his mother had had over the course of the last month, and nodded briefly to her. Leaving his fiancée behind him, he walked out to the gardens to have a conversation with Anthony Goldstein.

He found him walking briskly through the hedges back towards the ballroom, and stopped him in his tracks. Draco was pleased to see that he was an inch taller than the Ravenclaw.

"What did you do?" he asked in a low tone.

Anthony crossed his arms and looked Draco up and down, "What's it to you?"

"What did you do, Goldstein? Why did she run out of here crying?" Draco's voice was low and threatening.

Anthony met Draco's gaze, "I might ask you the same question. I don't know what you're playing at Malfoy, but in case you haven't noticed, you have a _fiancée_. So leave the poor girl alone. You've already messed up her life enough."

Anthony pushed past him, and Draco looked up at the sky, taking in Goldstein's words _you have a fiancée_ and _messed up her life enough_. He realized with a jolt that there was a full moon tonight. Funny, how life has a way of repeating itself. Turning on his heel, Draco decided he was going to work this out. Tonight.

Hermione was packing her suitcase, still in her ball gown, when she heard a crack behind her.

"Don't you know it's rude to apparate inside people's houses? Besides, Anthony, I don't want to talk about it. It was a mistake." She ignored the person behind her, and continued packing.

"I'm not Anthony Goldstein."

Hermione whirled around, wand out, and Draco could see clearly that she had been crying. Her hair was a messy, her eyes red, and her make-up had smeared. Draco lifted his hands in the air to show he was unarmed. Hermione slowly lowered her wand, but kept it out. "What do you want?" her eyes narrowed.

"To talk."

Hermione looked him up and down, as if decided whether or not he should be given the privilege to speak. "Fine. What?"

"I. . . we never talked." Hermione looked at him, but did not respond. He continued, "There are . . . things to say. They were never said. The war. . ."

"Well, the war disrupted everyone's lives, didn't it? But it's done now. It's been done for four years."

"Exactly." Draco looked at her again, straight into her eyes. As if seeing her eyes was what it took to give him confidence, he spoke this time, and really spoke, not in the tentative manner with which he had started.

"Hermione," he reached for her hand, and held it, no matter how much she squirmed, and looked directly at her, holding her gaze, "I have struggled, these past six years, completely and utterly in vain. It is impossible to move on from you. I love you. I love your determination, your ambition and your know-it-all demeanor. I cannot, despite my struggles, set aside my feelings. Despite your birth, the society you keep, your reputation as a working witch, and our long time rivalry,no to mention the opinions of my society, I cannot remove you from my thoughts. Please end my suffering."

Hermione could not hide her astonishment at being addressed thus, and finally shook her hand out of his own. The look of admiration on his face was blind to her. He had insulted her, and in an effort to spare his feelings, said through gritted teeth, "I am sorry that you have been troubled such." She turned away.

Draco's eyes widened, "Is that all the response I am to get? Are you not going to admit that you, too, have been struggling? Don't think I don't know how many wizards you have dated, how often you struggle to conceal your feelings when we must work together."

She rounded on him in full fury, and nearly yelled, "Do I need remind you that you are ENGAGED, my dear sir? That, this evening, I was forced to watch as you announced your marriage contract to the world?

Or shall I further remind you how you have meddled in and ruined my career as a Healer at St. Mungo's but not only appointing Healer Sincok to the positions which I have so rightfully earned, but chosen a wizard who is an incompetent arse to run the division which I have put my heart and soul into. He's running it to the ground, and THAT is your doing! You look surprised, Draco, but do you really think I couldn't deduce that it was your vote that placed Healer Sincok in the position over myself? I am not an ignorant witch! Do you deny that the board placed a wizard who is undeserving and unwilling to work such a job?" When he did not respond, she continued her rampage.

"Not to mention the fact that you have so tactfully placed yourself as reviewer of my division, a position which gives you the ability to fire any and all healers who work in that division, including myself! Not doubt you were planning to do just that come Monday! Well, too bad for you, because I'm quitting anyways to take a job in Sicily, far away from you and your life-ruining plots!"

"Are you quite through, Madam?"

"I've only just gotten started! The war! The Daily Prophet called you 'hero' and 'spy,' and instead of telling the world the _truth_, that you were nothing of the sort, and only joined our side for fear of your family's safety, and in fact that your life was saved by Harry twice at the Battle of Hogwarts, especially when your idiot sidekick cast the fire curse in the Room of Requirement!

Further, do you think _anything_ could tempt me to accept the man who has forced my only sister into an arranged marriage? Don't play the idiot, I know you arranged Anna's marriage and that is was by your actions that a _marriage contract_ was signed just to ensure a loveless marriage for life. And you did this to _Anna_. A girl with more spirit and love of life than any! And you know this because she's as close to _you_ as a sister."

Draco's face was grave, and he said in a dangerous voice, approaching Hermione so closely she feared for her safety and gripped her wand, "And this is what you think of me. Thank you for being so articulate. It is, after all, one of your most prominent traits. Maybe some of my faults may have been overlooked had not your pride ruled out any and all possibilities of us being together after your rejected my society."

"My pride? What of yours? _'Despite your birth, the society you keep, your reputation as an inadmissible, working witch'_ even when the war is over and you claim your prejudices have been set aside you still consider me below you due to my upbringing and my beliefs that a woman should be able to choose her life! Or need I remind you that my blood is just as pure as yours—"

"From a mother and a father you know nothing about," Draco said angrily, then, more quietly, as he backed away, "You have said _enough_, Granger. I understand fully what you think of me."

And he stood on the spot, vanishing into nothingness, leaving a shocked Hermione rooted to the spot, tearless.

* * *

*Please don't throw things at me* I loved the last three chapters, and have loved your feedback to them. I think it will be quiet for a few chapters now, but don't worry... the Draco/Hermione interactions aren't over!

~Liza Lew~


	18. Chapter 17: The Move

**Chapter Seventeen: The Move**

Hermione stepped out into the sun in a flowery sundress and broad-brimmed hat. Though it was crisp in England this time of year, it was still warm in the Mediterranean. She had just come from an interview at the small hospital of the island and thought it had gone rather well, considering they had offered her the job on the spot. Perhaps her impromptu trip out here hadn't been such a bad idea after all.

Following the night of the Malfoy Ball, she had left in the morning for Sicily and hadn't looked back. She had owled her resignation to Healer Aaderon, booked a hotel the night before, and spent a week in the sun, happily ignoring the world, having deferred any and all owls addressed to her back to her house in Kent.

After the interview this afternoon, she had concluded that she was going to move down here directly and start a new life. She had no need to return to England at all except to collect her things and put her house up for sale. Here, she would need to find a place to stay, and with that in mind went to visit the island's only real estate agent to inquire after places.

The real estate agent was a mousey little man, in his sixties, who spoke through a thick Italian accent. He informed her that there were only three places for sale near the hospital, and consented to take her to see them the next day.

"Now, this first property is just an apartment in the center of town, which I know is a little smaller than you would have liked, it's two bedrooms, it is," he adjusted his glasses slightly and continued, "But it's in good condition, and they're looking to rent it out right away."

Hermione walked up three flights of stairs with the old man tottering in front of her, and had pretty much decided by the time she reached the top, huffing and puffing, that this was not particularly to her taste. The apartment was small and dingy, and almost immediately after seeing it, she shook her head and asked to go to the next place.

The second place was a small house on the outskirts of the town, a run-down place with an overgrown garden. Just a single story, and three bedrooms, it was of adobe and red-roofed. She could have dealt with fixing it up, it was charming, really, except for the giant, unidentifiable bugs she found in the kitchen.

Praying that the third place would be livable, and worth her investment, she was spent the whole ride to the land thinking of what she would do if it wasn't. The cart stopped at the end of a pathway, the property behind which was hidden by an array of trees.

"Here we are," the little wizard offered Hermione his hand and helped her out of the cart. "It's just behind here, Miss Granger."

Hermione tentatively walked down the winding path through the blooming trees. She felt strange, as if she had been here before. A few minutes in, a small house peaked through the trees. The sense of connection with the place only grew as she gazed at the house itself. Smiling, Hermione saw a little house hidden under vines and walked up to the front door, smiling at the agent as he came up behind her.

"This is a small villa, being sold by the family that's owned it for generations. Decided they didn't need it. The lands are extensive, actually, though the orchards are quite overgrown. Why don't we look inside?"

Hermione stood aside and let the agent open the door, and her breath was taken by the entryway. There was a little wrought iron stairway that opened to a loft in front of her, and mosaics on either wall gave the entry a homely feel. Not waiting for the realtor, Hermione walked back to find the kitchen and dining area open to a patio in the back. Stepping back there, she saw a view of the countryside: sprawling hills, and beautiful orchards. Not waiting to see the rest of the house, she turned back to the tottering little man behind her and asked, "When can I move in?"

Back in Britain, Draco Malfoy had begun to review the Spell Damage Division at St. Mungo's. His first day, he walked directly in to Anthony Goldstein the minute he stepped inside. The Ravenclaw eyed him up and down, and then ignored him to catch the lift. Draco stepped in next to him and the two rode up in silence.

When the elevator rang the floor of the Spell Damage Division, the two got out, and Draco put on his best impartial buinessman façade. He turned to Anthony and said, "I'll be beginning in Ward 42 today, and staying throughout the next few months to inspect the other wards, laboratories and administration of the division. Please let your healers know."

"I'm not Healer-In-Charge, Mr. Malfoy. I don't know why you're telling me this."

Draco looked directly at the healer and said, quietly, "Because you and I know that the healers and employees in this division would rather listen to you than Healer Sincok." Draco straightened, turned, and walked to the Healer-In-Charge's office to greet him while Anthony, a bit bemused, began rounds.

The week passed swiftly at St. Mungo's. After Healer Granger's abrupt departure, the division was in shambles, but somehow the team pulled it together enough to continue. Healer Goldstein personally checked in with each ward and laboratory at least twice a day, and took it upon himself to do the job that Healer Granger had left behind.

The useless Healer Sincok continued to mess everything up, daily causing accidents. He found himself, on more than one occasion, being rushed out of the room due to 'hazardous experiment' or 'contagious diseases.' He was often encouraged to go out for long lunches, and to explore wizarding London to his best advantage, especially during the times that Mr. Malfoy came in to review the activities of the division.

Mr. Malfoy himself was very professional, not a hair out of line, despite his recent appointment to the board. He was kind, and showed legitimate interest in the activities of the division. He took detailed notes during his visits, and asked intelligent questions. He often spent days in each ward, not only getting to understand the particulars of the ward's day-to-day function, but also getting to know the healers that worked there.

He asked them questions about their lives, their histories. He knew who had gone to Hogwarts, where each person had trained in their healer studies. His courtesy didn't stop there, but extended to the interim patients. He began to help Mr. Lockhart practice his signatures, and shared Drooble's Best Blowing Gum with Alice Longbottom. The children came to love his stories, and soon the entire division was used to his solemn presence.

Anthony watched all of this with wonder, and every so often questions would float through his mind, about who this man really was, and what he had to do with her. Of what the history between Mr. Malfoy and her was was, and why Mr. Malfoy irked her so. If they didn't share an interest in _her_, he suspected he would get along well with Mr. Malfoy. However, the side of Mr. Malfoy that Anthony had seen that night had not been that of a co-worker to her. It had been a desperate man in love, and Anthony wanted to know _why_.

She had never so much as mentioned anything between the two of them, and Anthony liked to think he knew her well. Yet, despite prizing her as a close friend, he had not heard from her since that night. Since she had walked away, whispering only _I'm sorry_. He didn't even know where she was, she had ignored his owl. The only hint of her since that night had been the resignation she sent in to Healer Aaderon.

If only he hadn't been so stupid, so impulsive. If only he had done it in the proper order, if he had asked her out first, and taken her to _Le Petit Chat_, and charmed her, and let her know that he had been in love with her since the beginning of their Healer's Training. That he had even admired her since the days of Dumbledore's Army, but in those days he had been far too scared of her take-charge attitude. He had no idea that the man working alongside him was having parallel thoughts.

Draco Malfoy was living in grey-scale. His life had taken on a colorless existence, repeating the same day over and over. He spent three days of every week at St. Mungo's, in the Spell Damage Division, working with its people and learning what needed to be changed. The other two days were spent at the ministry, in advisory meetings with Kingsley and Potter, while his nights were filled with correspondence with his business contacts at Flourish and Blotts. Often he worked into the weekend, though his presence was demanded by his fiancée and his mother at least two or three evenings a week.

Even these nights were repeats. Narcissa treated her son tenderly, and had quiet concern in her eyes, but Asteria didn't seem to notice, or at the least stubbornly ignored it. She was as bubbly as ever, constantly planning events for their friends and making Draco dress up for nights out, keeping a determinedly cheerful façade even when Draco was tactile.

He was stuck in a stupor, but he had no motivation to move out of it. She had dismissed him so fully that he was scared. An inkling in his chest told him what he wanted, but he was too scared to move forward, so instead he kept living through days in shades of grey.

A month in to her new life, Hermione was content. Her little villa was homey. She had re-established correspondence with her friends, and had Ginny send down her clothes and necessities, so the place felt like home. Her house in Kent was on the market, but she would let her books and the remainder of her possessions lay there until she had the inclination to leave the warm Mediterranean climate and collect them herself.

Her new job was satisfying without being exhausting, everything Mungo's hadn't been. Though she disparaged at the loss of her favorite patients and trainee healers, everyone on staff at the little place she now worked was charming and polite, and incredibly patient with the English healer still learning her basic Italian.

The work was interesting, and the cases varied. Almost all of the wizarding population of the islands came to the hospital, meaning a constant influx of characters. There was a mix of hands-on cases and paperwork for her to do, but she was always finished before she departed for the evening, and didn't have a second job to do on top of it.

Best of all, there was no potential for romance of any kind. The other healers in her division were a resident, female, and two specialist healers, one married with three children and the other older than her grandfather. The trainees at this hospital, she found, were fresh out of school, not even eighteen, and shared between all divisions. It was a climate that did her some good for the time being.

Once in awhile, when she was sitting on her back patio, overlooking the hills and the sunset, Hermione found her mind wandering back to him. She was nowhere near as over him as she had pretended to be for years. She had given up on it for quite a long time, but she hadn't been over him. It was surprising how these things came back years later. But then she would remember Anna, her sister, soon to be stuck in a loveless marriage. Then images of the war, and his engagement to a girl who she didn't dislike. Then further images, of her own career, and his meddling would resurface. And the thoughts would conclude with the picture of her own so near escape from a forced marriage, and she would look back in to the sunset and forcibly think about something else.


	19. Chapter 18: The Fiancee

**Chapter Eighteen: The Fiancée**

Asteria Greengrass was blonde. She was blonde, bubbly and ditsy. She loved her dresses and her champagne. She thrived among her society. But she was not dimwitted. As a matter of fact, being the Slytherin that she was, she could understand and manipulate things around her very easily. More than that, she could read people and use them accordingly. It was not a very becoming trait for a young woman, but it had served her well in the past.

This is not to say she was evil or whorish. On the contrary, she had a rather precise morals, and though her interpretation of nice was not the same as everyone's, she did her best to be polite. She would not intentionally hurt anyone to get where she wanted, but her perception of hurt was also different than the norm. This was perhaps due to her own threshold for hurt being fairly high.

She did not realized the difference, but growing up a Greengrass meant that your threshold for hurt was higher than normal. Her sister, though less intelligent than her, had the same threshold. Some might call the pair emotionless, but Asteria knew that was not the case. They had emotions, they were just buried beneath. Her duties came first, and she had been raised from a young age to not let anything or anyone despair her.

She was ambitious. She knew it was not usual for women of her stature to have a career, or to associate with those outside of pureblood society, but Asteria wanted more. So she had ensured that her engagement had been to man who would let her have a career, and postponed her beginning of that career long enough to divert suspicion away from her parents.

When she had selected Draco Malfoy as her fiancé, he had been the ideal choice. He was charming, set to take over the family business. He was going to inherit millions and could provide well for her. He was perceived as a war hero, so her stock would rise with their connection. Not to mention he was good looking. But the most important fact was that he would allow her to work. With a mother like Narcissa Malfoy, how could he ever doubt that women could function in the workplace just as well, if not better, than men?

Yes, Draco Malfoy had been the perfect choice. And so she had planted the idea in her mother's brain. She had needed to be sly about it. As the younger daughter, she was not at liberty to give opinions in front of her parents. Instead, she had carefully directed the conversation between her sister and her mother to her sister's old classmates, and eventually to one in particular. She had let their conversation carry on, and Daphne, as she was prone to do, chatted endlessly about this person or that, and their accomplishments. At each mention of a boy, Asteria would make Daphne's comments drift towards the unlikeable qualities of each of them.

And then – there it was. She mentioned Draco Malfoy, and began going on about his accomplishments since school. This time, Asteria did not guide her sister's chattering to faults, but rather in the opposite direction.

Mrs. Greengrass' interest had been peeked, and she had asked more questions, until she had gleaned all the information she could about Mr. Malfoy, who bless him, was _single_. Mrs. Greengrass had been holding the problem that was her youngest daughter in contempt for some time, you see.

Her older daughter, Daphne, was a charming girl, and would do her duty as a society wife well. Her younger daughter, though. Asteria had _ideas_ and _plans_. And this whole tour around Europe, it was so very unladylike. And so, though her mother had consented to her travels for some time, she had been called back, as she expected, to be engaged to Draco Malfoy.

She had been entirely pleased with herself, and sent out inquiries to different journals and newspapers the week she returned to the British Isles, and then permanently latched herself on to Draco Malfoy's arm. With any luck, she would be married and working within the year, free of her parents' constraints.

Unfortunately, Asteria Greengrass was having no such luck. She could see, plain as the Leaky Cauldron, that something was going through Draco Malfoy's head. Something disturbing and not centered on her. And, if it was what she suspected, well, even Asteria Greengrass was vain enough to want the man she married to have his attention on her; even if she did not marry that man for love.

The problem had, it pained her to admit it, begun with his appointment to the board at St. Mungo's. She should have seen it the night at the pub, but she was blind. She could not read him as easily as she had expected. It had finally been at the engagement party that she had realized it. Her fiancé had feelings for Healer Granger. Now, her absence was causing him to walk around in a stupor.

It was a shame, really. Asteria particularly liked Hermione Granger. She was kind, intelligent, and someone who Asteria, aspiring to be a working woman, looked up to. But life was messy, and tangled, and dramatic. If Asteria was guessing correctly, there was a history between her fiancé and Healer Granger, one that she had been ill-informed about. The question was, who could she hear it from?

Racking her brain, Asteria went over a list of friends and relations. Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley were extremely close to Healer Granger, the whole wizarding world knew that, but she was wholly unconnected to them. She was also unconnected to Ronald Weasley, Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood, the other names so frequently associated with Healer Granger. It had appeared to her that Anthony Goldstein was close to Healer Granger, but betting on the looks he was giving her that night at the pub, Healer Goldstein was in love with Healer Granger as well; that conversation would not be comfortable. Failing to think of someone connected to Healer Granger, she thought instead of her fiancé.

Gregory Goyle had always been close to Draco, but he was very short with words and even worse at recounting stories. Besides, Pansy had him on a tight leash these days. Pansy, if asked, would do nothing except whine about her own life. Blaise Zabini had never been more than a classmate to Draco, and he lived a life silent as the grave anyways. Who else was close to her fiancé? And then it hit her, and she knew exactly who to visit.

"I did not expect to see you until Sunday brunch my dear, what brings you to Malfoy Manor in the middle of the week?" Narcissa set down her cup of tea and smiled at Asteria.

Asteria smiled back, trying to butter up the lady in front of her. Seeing a flash in Narcissa Malfoy's eyes, Asteria reconsidered. Perhaps, with this lady, it was better to be straight forward. "Forgive the impropriety that comes with this, Mrs. Malfoy, but I have an impertinent question I must ask you. I wouldn't trouble you with it, except that I don't know who else to ask."

Narcissa smiled gently, "I'm sure nothing you ask could be too impertinent, Asteria. But there. I will answer your question if I can."

"Thank you. I'm afraid I don't know quite where to begin, I probably should have asked this to Draco directly," she took a breath and looked right at Mrs. Malfoy, "does Draco have a history with Miss Granger?"

Narcissa looked startled to say the least and clasped her hands in her lap, then pursed her lips. She answered briefly, "Yes, he does."

When she did not elaborate, Asteria asked very carefully, "I was wondering whether you might be able to explain to me what it was, as, you see, he is my fiancé."

Narcissa's expression did not soften, but after a moment she spoke, "Hermione Granger was to be engaged to my son six years ago. There was to be a grand celebration after she was announced in society, as the found daughter of Marcus and Elizabeth, long lost in the muggle world. You would know Elizabeth as Mrs. Lane, married to Mr. James Lane, their daughter, Anna, is about your age.

At any rate, Hermione entered society the summer before her sixth year at Hogwarts, after Mrs. Lane found her. She and Draco began dating, and all was scheduled properly, but she ran away, back to her muggle upbringing and her place next to Mr. Potter. And the newspapers have told you the rest, how she helped defeat You-Know-Who and is now a successful healer, with an eye for magical law."

Narcissa got up as she finished, "I must apologize, my dear, for I feel a headache coming on, and must retire. Thank you for your company."

Without further goodbyes, without seeing Asteria from the room or from the house, Narcissa swept out, her robes flowing behind her, to leave Asteria standing there, processing, an undrunk cup of tea in her hands.

That evening found Asteria in her rooms, pacing. Narcissa's account did not give anything away about Draco's feeling on the subject. For all she knew, the two may have been placed together as an arranged couple by their families. However, she did know that, whatever the reasons, Draco and Hermione had dated. And if the feelings portrayed by Draco now, many years later, were any indication, there had been, at least on his side, affection.

Affection which she had apparently walked out on. This would also explain why Draco Malfoy was not yet married, despite his family being prominent in pureblood society. If he had been jilted once, there was a chance other families had heard, and decided to keep their daughters away. Then again, her family had not heard about the almost engagement at all. Apparently the Malfoys were very good at keeping family secrets. What other ones might there be? Never mind that, that topic was one for a later date.

Draco Malfoy could simply have not been married due to his busy life. He had been at Hogwarts, and then disappeared for a few years to who-knows-where to do who-knows-what. It is possible his family just did not have the time to arrange a match. In all reality, those were poor excuses. If a pureblood family wanted to arrange a marriage, they would do so as soon as possible regardless of circumstances.

Then what had kept Draco Malfoy from being engaged? And with a jolt she realized that all through her years in pureblood society, she had not once seen Draco Malfoy announced as a couple with anyone. Not Pansy, not Daphne, not any of the Beauxbatons girls. Draco Malfoy had, since Asteria entered society in her fifteenth year, been single.

Which meant, perhaps, that his decision not to marry had been a deliberate choice on his part, a deliberate step away from society, and away from what. . . getting hurt? Being embarrassed? Or something more, something deeper? Maybe not away from something at all, but perhaps an internal hope that he harbored? A hope that he would reconnect with Miss Granger one day?

Yet if that was true, why in the hell had he consented to marrying her, Asteria? Had he finally just given up? Or had he been forced into it by his family? Or was she being used as a ploy to lure the _real_ bride back to pureblood society? Whichever situation it was, Asteria did not like it. She did not like it at all.

* * *

Hi everyone :) Thanks for sticking with me thus far - only 12 chapters left! Anyways, thought I'd put in a word here to say how much I enjoy your reviews and that I've been working really hard on trying to get the last few chapters right!

And you will be hearing more from Asteria's point of view, because I really like her... but you will hear from Draco, Anthony, Hermione, Anna and everyone else too! See you next chapter!

~Liza Lew~


	20. Chapter 19: The Review

**Chapter Nineteen: The Review**

The next several weeks passed in such an event-less manner that nothing in Draco Malfoy's life was worth mentioning. His friends and family saw him work more and more diligently at his job, but show less and less the signs of happiness, life and motivation. He barely talked to others outside of business affairs, and kept his remarks concerted and direct. He did not seek anyone out for society, and was forcibly made to shown up to events by his fiancée. He found himself more and more often downing firewhiskey in these situations, to the worried looks of his fiancée.

So, after two months in his tenure as consultant and reviewer in the Spell Damage Division at St. Mungo's, Draco Malfoy was prepared to give his presentation in full to the board. He had spent the last weeks piecing together every picture, diagram, set of notes and last-minute interviews to give the board a presentation which they were not likely to forget. He had a host of ideas on how the efficiency of the division could be improved, and had a few opinions on staffing as well. This week, however, would not just be filled by his presentation to the other board members and Healer Aaderon, but by the presentations of the other four board members from their reviews of the Artifact Accidents, Creature-Induced Incidents, Magical Bugs and Potion and Plant Poisoning Divisions as well. Though the other four divisions did not have new Healers-In-Charge, they needed to be reviewed nonetheless. This year, they began with the presentations starting from floor one and working up.

Monday came Mrs. Kinanne's presentation on the Artifact Accidents Division, which was overall satisfactory. The only real changes were a change in the budget to allocate more funding to a project involving eye-burning books, which was having particular success, and the cutting of a project on Egyptian artifacts, as the possibility of British wizards encountering them was fairly low.

The second day of the week came Mr. Parrol with his review of the Creature-Induced Incidents Division. His main concern was the lack of staff who had expertise in dragon wounds, as the retirement of two healers last term had unbalanced the numbers. The board settled on putting a head hunter on the case for a new expert, and in the meantime holding a seminar series for the regular staff on treating dragon-inflicted wounds.

Mr. Wimple, whom Draco had barely heard speak up until that point, reported the next day on the workings of Healer Clearwater's Magical Bugs Division, and reported cheerfully that a particularly infectious disease among elderly wizards was now able to be vaccinated among the younger population, and suggested a public announcement to the community in time for the winter holidays when children would be home from school. He praised Healer Clearwater's work as Healer-In-Charge, and beamed when he articulated how she had dealt with a particularly nasty case of spattergoit. Draco noticed with interest that Sir Radford had a pained expression on his face while this discussion occurred.

The day before Draco gave his presentation, Sir Radford gave his on the Potion and Plant Poisoning Division. His report was not a happy one. He ripped apart every shred of the division, pointing at staffing issues here, stocking issues there, and the inability to help patients with the current systemic operation. Draco, who had been under the impression that the Poisoning Division was particularly well run, was incredibly startled, and sat there listening to Radford explain how the stock of bezoars was _incredibly low_, they had less than the Lefay Hopitale, and that just couldn't be right.

On the morning of his presentation, Draco stopped by Mungo's itself around eight o'clock to pick up a few reports. He entered the spell damage division to see it bustling, and nodded to Anthony, who giving instruction to several trainees. He then turned to the trainee who was behind the main desk. She was young, barely out of Hogwarts, and smiled flirtatiously at Draco as he approached.

"Hello Mr. Malfoy," she batted her eyelashes at him, "is there anything I can do for you?"

Draco barely noticed her attitude, and simply replied, "No, Miranda, I just need to grab a few records before I head to the Board's meeting today." He stepped behind the counter next to her and started rifling through the file drawers under the desk.

To his annoyance, Miranda stooped down to help him, so their heads were inches apart. She began going through files in the neighboring drawers. "What are you looking for, Mr. Malfoy?" she turned her head to look at him, but his eyes were on the files in front of him.

"I need the record of the cauldron incident with Healer Sincok from a month ago. I seem to have misplaced my copy." His hands moved to a specific folder, but she brushed him aside, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Let me, Mr. Malfoy. I know exactly where that file is," she dove in to the drawer Draco had just been looking through and pulled out a manila envelope, smiling as she waved in in front of his face. He snatched it from her, and the two of them stood up, now uncomfortably close.

"You look very dashing today, Mr. Malfoy. Did your girlfriend choose your attire?" She reached as if to touch his arm, but Draco turned away from the girl and walked out from behind the desk, looking through the files, apparently not paying attention.

"Mr. Malfoy?" she cocked her head to one side, causing her hair to fall over her shoulder, and created a pouty expression on her face by protruding her lips.

Draco Malfoy didn't even look over his shoulder, but said briefly, "Yes, thank you Marianne," and proceeded to walk off down the hall.

Miranda crossed her arms and scowled. Anthony Goldstein, who had seen the entire interaction, stifled laughter, but then went back to his work. It seemed remarkably good-looking women of the ordinary variety did not register on Draco Malfoy's radar. Before his thoughts could pursue the topic further, however, a trainee healer came up to bid him come handle an emergency in Ward 49.

One by one the other board members arrived, with varying coffee cups and papers in their grasps. Healer Aaderon was last to arrive, and seemed to be out of sorts; instead of his usual cheery attitude, he sat solemnly in the back of the room. Finally, when everyone was settled, Draco began.

"My fellow board members, I have spent the last two months in the Spell Damage Division of St. Mungo's, reviewing their activities, particularly in regards to the recent appointment of Healer Sincok as the Healer-In-Charge. I have spent many hours getting to know the staff, the research and the work that is accomplished in this division on a personal basis. Today, I will be showing the base numbers and progress reports as is required by this board. I will briefly review the largest cases of the last six months and how each could have been better dealt with. Near the end of my talk, we will go in to the research projects underway and deduce which parts of them we may need to further support. I will be concluding my presentation with my suggestions for the improvement of the division."

He paused, and looked at Sir Radford, who had an expression of boredom on his face. Faltering, Draco looked around the room. The other board members were wearing similar expressions, twiddling or doodling. Finally, Draco found Healer Aaderon's eyes. The Healer nodded at him slightly, and Draco took a breath, and continued.

Several hours later found Mr. Malfoy concluding his presentation, "The only conclusion I can draw from these extensive investigations is that the division is not yet a sunken ship despite its recent loss of both Healer-In-Charge and Chief Resident." Draco paused and looked at Sir Radford as he said the next part, "but there is one staffing change I must insist on."

He had to hold strong for this part. Radford's head shot up and he began glaring at Draco, as if he knew what was coming. The other board members' interest was notedly peaked, and Healer Aaderon looked slightly bemused. Mrs. Kinanne looked about to jump out of her seat.

A cold, cruel and deathly slow remark came from Sir Radford's lips, "but Mr. Malfoy, you have just told us that the division is doing quite well, albeit a few re-allocations of funding are necessary in the research department." Sir Radford continued to stare Draco down, and Draco felt himself quiver.

For an instant, with those cold eyes staring him down, he was transported four years in to the past. He was sixteen years old again, given a mission by the Dark Lord. He knew he couldn't succeed, but he had to try. He _had_ to try, or lose his life. Or lose the lives of his parents. He was shaking underneath his exterior, and each attempt had worse effects than the last. And at every emotional break, every time that he couldn't stand the pressure bearing down on him, he found himself running to the girl's lavatory on the second floor of Hogwarts. He needed to escape. And for a split second, he looked at the door of the conference room.

He was broken out of his trance by the soft voice of Healer Aaderon, "I think, Sir Radford, that I know the staffing that Mr. Malfoy was going to make."

"Yes, I…" Draco stuttered, then continued, "I suggest the dismissal of Healer Sincok."

Sir Radford got to his feet, face beet red, and began shouting, "_You_ suggest the dismissal of Healer Sincok! You have no evidence that he is unworthy of the position of Healer-In-Charge of the division, you just wanted that _Granger_ girl to get the position because you fancy her, you young idiot! Healer Sincok is running the division quite well, as you yourself have said…"

"Actually," said on of the quieter members, "He said the division is doing decently well considering its recent changes in staff, but during his entire discussion, he never once mentioned the work our new Healer-In-Charge is doing."

"That is besides the point! If a division is doing well, obviously its Healer-In-Charge is doing his job correctly…"

"Actually, according to the numbers Mr. Malfoy has given us," Mrs. Kinanne was interjecting in a crisp tone, "the division did very well for the first part of the quarter, but little progress has been made since the departure of Healer Hermione Granger."

There was a dead silence around the room, and no one dared look at Sir Radford, who was murderous. While Mrs. Kinanne was looking smug, and Healer Aaderon delighted, the other two board members thoughtful. Draco found his thoughts turned inwards. _Healer Hermione Granger_.

One of the members tapped the papers in front of him, "Mrs. Kinanne is right. And actually, I've had a fair amount of reports, which are confirmed by these notes, that Miss Hermione Granger was doing all of Sincok's work for him up until her abrupt departure."

Draco's mind continued to turn at the new words. _Miss Hermione Granger_.

The other member squinted at said papers, "Not to mention the staff comments saying that it was only Resident Hermione Granger who kept the division running during the last year, despite Healer-In-Chief Davies still being employed here."

Draco was skittish now, looking from one person to another as they talked. _Resident Hermione Granger_

Healer Aaderon fixed Sir Radford with a piercing stare, and looked at him over the edge of his glasses. Softly, he added, "I warned you about him, old friend. It should have been Hermione."

_Hermione._ The name was a stimulus. Something inside him snapped. Suddenly, he could pull himself out of the stupor he had fallen in to. The stupor created by an endless daily routine and the built up fear of this board meeting. The stupor which reverted him to his sixteen-year-old self, too afraid to do anything. Sir Radford was _not_ Lord Voldemort. And Draco Lucius Malfoy was not a coward any longer. He rounded on Sir Radford.

"Sir Radford. Your bigoted ideals and domineering demeanor won Healer Sincok the position of Healer-In-Chief of the Spell Damages Division of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries when it should have been awarded to the Chief Resident of the time. Healer Sincok has not only failed to do his job, but continues, on a daily basis, to disrupt the performance of our talented staff both in the clinical cases and research trials. It is for these reasons that I fully support the termination of his contract with St. Mungo's – immediately."

Sir Radford laughed, and he got up, facing the other board members. "You really think you've won this battle, don't you?" He looked into the faces of Draco, Mrs. Kinanne and Healer Aaderon. Sir Radford smirked at Draco, then continued, "By all means, fire Healer Sincok. But you've forgotten one important thing, youngling. The girl you chose for the position left months ago to take a job at a no-name Italian hospital hours away. She's in her perfect place there, a dead-end job with little responsibility – perfect for a muggleborn witch whose ability to annoy everyone in the room increased exponentially with anything new she learned." He laughed again, "Even if you all vote to dismiss Healer Sincok, you have _no one_ to replace him with. Even that Bulgarian chap we interviewed now has a new job. There's no one with the qualifications available." Pleased with himself, Radford strutted to the door and put his hand on the doorknob.

Draco Malfoy smirked his infamous smirk straight back at the elder board member. "Oh, but there is, Sir Radford. There is one person will all the qualifications right under your abnormally large nose."


	21. Chapter 20: The Promotion

**Chapter Twenty: The Promotion**

Draco Malfoy sat on a navy couch in front of a glass-top coffee table, facing an identical couch across from him. The sliding balcony door to his left was open, bringing in a breeze that ruffled the sheer curtains. The rest of the room was dim, and colored in shades of grey, from the near black of the cabinet behind him to the light grey of the walls around him. The wall he faced housed a picture, framed in plain wood painted black, that consisted of a sailboat on stormy waters. As he contemplated it, Anthony Goldstein came around the corner with two cups and sat down opposite of him.

"Afraid Chamomile is all I've got at the moment," he said, swirling his own in front of him so the tea leaves floated to the top. Draco took a sip of his, found it too sugary for his liking, and set it down in front of him.

He chuckled at the tea leaves, "Reminds me of Divination, all those tea leaves floating around."

Anthony smiled briefly and nodded, "Trewlany was an interesting one." There was a pause in which Anthony sipped his tea, and the Draco looked out the open door. Anthony spoke first, "So what brings you to my humble abode, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco Malfoy snapped his head back towards Anthony and smirked a bit, "I have some… interesting news for you. The board had a our annual reviews last week, and there are going to be some … changes at St. Mungo's."

"You're not letting me go, are you?" Anthony looked angry and got up, "I know I'm not as brilliant as other … or _past_ residents, but I've earned my stay! If you fired me Draco Malfoy, so help me, I will…"

Draco looked amused and leaned back in his seat, "I'm not firing you, Healer Goldstein. On the contrary."

"On the contrary?" Anthony took his seat again and looked at Draco questioningly.

"Well, as of Monday, Healer Sincok is no longer a part of the St. Mungo's staff." Anthony's eyes shot up at this, but he let Draco continue, "And you are being appointed Healer-In-Charge of the Spell Damage Division of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries."

There was a deathly silence in which Anthony's knuckles turned white from grasping his cup. Then, barely above a whisper, answered, "How the hell did that happen?"

"Healer Aaderon thinks you're ready," Draco said plainly, then began to get up to leave, "we'll expect you to begin your new job on Monday."

As Draco turned, Anthony said quietly, "I'm the last resort choice, aren't I?" Draco didn't answer immediately, so Anthony added, even quieter than before, "because she's gone." That part wasn't a question.

Draco said, very carefully, "You are the best available candidate for the position." With that, he left.

Anna Lane was once again folded in to the society she had grown up in. She attended sparkling balls, fancy dinner parties and demur afternoon teas. She chatted, socialized, curtsied, and danced. She did not eat, did not run, did not yell or exclaim. She wore formal dress robes at all times, ranging from satin pink to silk periwinkle. She was waited on hand and foot by the servants of her manor household. And she detested it.

She was accompanied always by her mother, Elizabeth Lane. Elizabeth Lane was a high society woman, snooty and not above showing distain for those lower than her. She was above almost all around her, and thought highly of a clean appearance and correct manners. She did not let her daughter out of her sight at the same time as talking to every person of importance in the room.

Tonight's event was one of importance. The invitation had arrived a week ago, and it was one that Elizabeth had been anticipating for the last two months. The Krieger Family had invited Anna Lane and her parents to a private dinner function at their country manor.

Since the marriage contract had been signed between Anna's family and that of her mysterious fiancée, the Lanes had heard little from the Krieger family, owning to the head of the family being out of town and, to Anna's understanding, the engagement being quite rushed. Nevertheless, Elizabeth had spent the better part of the morning for seven weeks pacing, waiting for this invitation. When it came, she was incredibly relieved, and immediately ordered Anna's gown, in addition to informing Mr. Lane that he would be free that evening.

Anna had rolled her eyes at this amount of worrying form her mother; just because the family into which Anna would be marrying did not take the time to write mother did not meant he engagement was off. On the contrary, Anna thought with grim satisfaction, the engagement couldn't be broken off. It was signed in a marriage contract.

It was thus that Anna found herself being dressed at three o'clock on a Saturday afternoon in a muslin dress of cherry blossom pink. The bateau neckline left her nearly bare-shouldered, and the A-line skirt made her look slender. Her hair was dressed up into a mass of curls, purposefully made to look half-up with ringlets spilling over. She felt ridiculous.

Her mother, however, had other ideas. The instant Elizabeth entered the room, she was fawning over Anna's appearance, checking every detail, saying how marvelous Anna looked, and glancing at the clock so often it was as if she had a twitch. Finally, the clock struck six o-clock and Elizabeth offered her arm to apparate.

The women came out of the stifling darkness on to the well manicured lawn of a stately manor, separated from them by a beautifully designed pool. Anna crazily thought of the gardens of Versailles as she looked at the shaped hedges on either side of the pool. In her moment of pondering, her mother turned around and beckoned for her to follow. Anna hoisted her skirts, and, still marveling at the golden, columned house on the other side of the pool, walked around it behind her mother and up the sprawling staircases.

As she passed the second landing, she saw fountains decorating the landing in front of the house, all glittering from lights within the streaming water. Distracted by the details of the sculptures on the far sides of the landing, she didn't notice the open doors in front of her. Nor did she notice the man and woman standing framed in them.

"Miss Lane, I daresay we have been anticipating your arrival all day!" Anna's head snapped towards the doors and she saw a plump and pleasant-looking woman in a simple but elegant blue gown walking towards her.

Anna swept in to a curtsey, and did not look up until the woman approached her. The woman gently lifted Anna's head up with her finger and smiled, "My dear, don't feel you need to curtsey to us here. You are to be family very soon."

Anna saw a grimace on her mother's face from the corner of her eye, but replied to the woman evenly, "I'm sorry, Ma'am, but family or no, we have not yet been introduced, and I was brought up in such a way as to be proper and polite to new acquaintances."

The woman smiled, "You are right, my dear. My name is Amiellie Aaderon. And this," she beckoned to the man behind her, who came forward and took her arm, "Is my husband, Jonatan. We are to be your aunt and uncle."

"I am pleased to meet you both. I believe you have met my mother, Elizabeth Lane?" At this, Elizabeth came forward, looking civil, but not kind. If Mr. and Mrs. Aaderon noticed it, it did not show.

"Thank you for your gracious invitation, Lady Aaderon," Elizabeth said, the perfect mask of society politeness on her face. Anna suspected it would remain there for the evening.

"It was our pleasure," Mrs. Aaderon did not look at Elizabeth when she said this, but locked her gaze on Anna, "Now, the family is quite excited to meet you. Please come inside."

Anna found the insides of the house as elegant as the outside, and found her thoughts again reverting to the décor of Versailles as they walked through several ornately decorated rooms through an archway and ending in a large parlor, filled to the brim with people chatting, drinking, laughing, and even children chasing each other around the room.

At Anna's entrance, however, the room grew silent. One of the younger girls crashed into the back of the one she had been chasing, but the other hardly noticed, doe eyes turned towards the new arrivals.

It was Mrs. Aaderon who broke the silence, smiling at everyone in the room, "My dears, I would like to introduce you to Anna Lane. Anna, this is the family." She pushed Anna forward, and Anna smiled hesitantly.

"Who's that?" One of the small girls had pointed in the direction of Elizabeth, and was scooped up by one of the ladies and quietly scolded while the rest of the family chuckled. Mrs. Aaderon supplied the answer, "This is Mrs. Elizabeth Lane, Miss Anna's mother. They are our guests this evening, Sally."

The little girl's frank question seemed to have broken some of the tension, as Anna found herself being introduced to a group of women who would have her included in their conversation, which she did.

An hour or so later, the bell rang for dinner and the entire family made their way in to the dining rooms. Anyone younger than fourteen years of age was ushered to a smaller room with the "children's table" under the eye of a few watchful servants. The adults were led in to a large room with a singular, long table in the middle of it. The room must have been two full stories high, as there was a balcony overlooking the room from the second floor, which wrapped around the entire place. The decoration was just as magnificent as the rest of the household: the wall hangings were antique medieval stories in brilliant reds and golds, the crown molding that ran around the edge of the room was dusted gold in color.

As Anna took in her surroundings, her seat was pulled out for her and she sat elegantly, with her skirts spread out around her. Her notice immediately went to the empty seat across from her, and as the bread was passed she turned to Mrs. Aaderon.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Aaderon, but who is missing this evening?"

"Oh," she laughed, "You've spotted your dear fiancé's empty spot. I'm afraid his father called him away this morning for business, but I didn't have the heart to rearrange the table. My nephew will show up whenever he can you see, he's a dear boy, but his father _will_ run him around."

"Are you talking about William? Has he run my grandson off on business again?" The elderly lady across from Anna had turned towards the two women.

"I was just asking Mrs. Aaderon why there is an empty spot at the table, ma'am." Anna said, wondering what relation this lady was.

"Oh I see. Well, my dear, you'd best know now, that William, my son-in-law, likes to make his son, my grandson, run all over the world for his little business ventures. I think it's a direct result of William not really being part of the family since my Cassandre passed away."

"Marjorie, I know you love to tell the family stories, but I don't know if our guest wants to hear…"

The elderly lady continued, anyways, "Really, Amielle, she may as well hear the family history, she's going to be my granddaughter soon. See, my Cassandre was the beauty that every boy wanted. William Smith fell in love with her the hardest, and won her over after quite a battle. Then they had little William, and they were the cutest family until the accident. William senior, you see, he took it hard. Never was the same. Focused on his business, and though he dropped my grandson off here for family holidays, events and summers, he stopped coming himself. Seems he's forgotten the importance of it. But no matter, my grandson still remembers. Mark my words, he will show up here once his business is done. He won't let down his grandmother."

As if to make a point, the elderly lady took a very determined stab at her salad and began to eat it. Mrs. Aaderon looked a bit exasperated, but began to introduce Anna to the rest of the family around her.

"… And down at the end there, too far to yell at, that will be Susanne and her husband Victor Aaderon, they were married last year and have a daughter, little Eliza. I completely understand if it takes you some time to learn everyone's names, our family is quite expansive."

Anna laughed, "Yes, it is a change when you're used to being an only child with cousins that talk to you only when mandatory. Anyways, they all seem lovely. But. . . I'm curious, maybe I heard wrong, but did you only mention girls born into the line?"

Mrs. Aaderon laughed, "Yes, actually. Our family has a tendency for things. Almost all the children born into the family are female. There was my father, the younger brother of two sisters by almost a decade, and with him the names died out. Your fiancé, then, is the heir to the family estates. Little Jonnhy, who you met earlier, and is only two years old, is the only other boy born to us in the last several generations. And he's four generations beyond the family name."

"That's incredible," said Anna, "I've never heard of a family with that kind of pattern before."

Mrs. Aaderon smiled ruefully, "Oh, there are a few wizarding families with odd patterns like that."

Several hours later found the children put to sleep and the adults in a new parlor for coffee and tea. Anna found she was not surprised that each of the family had their own rooms in the manor for family occasions such as this. It seemed these family members were incredibly close, and hardly let each other go a week without an update. The two sisters sitting next to her at the moment, twins her mother's age by the looks of it, were chattering endlessly about every detail of their lives. Anna smiled at them, sipped her coffee, and looked about the room.

As she glanced at the doorway, she heard a small shriek from Mrs. Aaderon to her left, and he vision was suddenly obscured as the woman wander in front of her and towards the person standing in the doorway.

"Nephew! You've come! We were so afraid that your father would keep you travelling too late to even stop by for our Sunday. Your little cousins all asked for you, every hour."

"Well, I couldn't miss entirely. I wrapped things up in Spain as fast as I could."

One of the other ladies got up to whisper in Mrs. Aaderon's ear, and she jumped as if startled, then said, "My dear boy, I've nearly forgotten! Your Miss Lane is here!" Anna found herself being pushed up by two of the aunts as Mrs. Aaderon stepped aside to give her a clear view of her fiancé.

Anna took one look at him, nearly jumped out of her skin with surprise, and then in one resolute move, moved forward and promptly dumped her cup of coffee over his head a-purpose.


	22. Interlude: On the Subject of Jane Austen

**Author's Note**

First and foremost, I would like to thank all the readers and reviewers who have been supportive of my work. For those of you that fall under that category, don't fear, I will be finishing Starlit Skies; but it may take longer than planned.

I have been receiving several anonymous reviews that have offended me as a writer. The more offensive ones, which I suspect came from the same person, read:

"_Stop with the Pride and Prejudice copying. Write your own story, not rewrite someone else's" - Ella_

"_I really like the first story, this one is so upsetting that you can't use your own words. What happened? This is not Pride and Prejudice." -Mattie_

If you have read the story in full, you will know this refers to the chapter where Draco and Hermione have their heated discussion after the Malfoy Ball.

I would like to take a second to respond to the accusation that, essentially, I am stealing from Jane Austen.

**(1) All of Austen's work is in public domain. **This means there is no copyright infringement whatsoever because her six novels were published in the early 1800's, the majority of which were post-humorously. Most copyright laws only extend about one hundred years after a person's death. Her plots, characters, and stories are free game for anyone who is publishing, let alone writing on fan fiction. Have you heard of "Confessions of a Jane Austen Addict" or "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies" ?

**(2) There are countless adaptions of the story of Pride and Prejudice **in literature, film, theater and music, not all of them by the name of "Pride and Prejudice." One of my favorites it Sherwood Smith's _Crown Duel_ a fantasy novel which masks the relationship among a civil war. Read it closely, and you will see the same relationship between its two main characters. Not to mention Hollywood films such as "Bridget Jones' Diary" or BBC miniseries such as "Lost in Austen."

**(3) Pride and Prejudice is the epitome of the love-hate relationship. **If we didn't have the example of Elizabteh Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy, the majority of love stories would follow the love-at-first-sight rule, such as fairy tales. Without it as an archetype available to literature, romance becomes repetitive. As many times as we love seeing Prince Charming and Cinderella it's not as entertaining as a little bickering first.

So yes, the use of the scene from Pride and Prejudice was intentional because I feel the relationship that has evolved between Draco and Hermione in this story echoes that of Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Further, my own writing, which is not posted on fan fiction, is original ideas. However, _this piece of work is fan fiction to begin with: the characters and world aren't even mine_. So don't get stuffy and rude if I chose to channel one of the greatest authors of all time in an effort to make the story flow better.

**Feel free to comment if you like, or not; but I had to respond. **

**Chapter 21 ("The Visitor") and the return of Hermione will be up by the weekend.**

**~Liza Lew~**


	23. Chapter 21: The Visitor

**Chapter Twenty-One: The Visitor**

As time faded by in the listless Sicilian sky, Hermione fell in to pattern. Every morning she would rise at seven o'clock to the view of the hills out her bedroom window. She would get dressed in her peach healer's robes and go to the hospital, where the trainee assigned to their floor would greet her.

The trainee would give her a cup of coffee along with a clipboard with the list of pressing tasks, which she would bring with her back to her office. There, she would begin by responding to the staff requests one by one, calling staff in as needed. By ten o'clock she would stretch her legs and shadow the rounds of the trainees, making sure everything had been done and greeting all of the patients.

At lunch time, she would wander down to the cafeteria and eat with the other healers from each division. They were nice, simple people with little complications and a penchant for discussing medicine rather than personal lives. An hour and a half in their company, and she would return to the confines of her office to deal with financial and administrational issues.

By six o'clock she completed her work for the day and made her way back to the villa. She would make dinner, pour herself a glass of wine, and read until she felt tired enough to fall asleep.

Her days were quiet, with the occasional page from one of the trainees to have her personally diagnose and care for a particular case, but these were far and few between. It was a quiet place; the residents of it didn't seem capable of getting in too much trouble.

Her weekends were spent repairing the villa, and exploring the little village in which she lived. It was very quiet, with cobblestone streets weaving in and out of small shops and cafés. The inhabitants always said hi to her and suggested new places to visit. Her favorite part of town, however, was the old Cathedral at the top of the hill.

The gothic cathedral stood several hundred feet tall, and was build of a study, sand-colored stone in blocks. On either end, the stone was carved into stories from the Bible, depicting angels and shepards among disciples and saints, carved there at least seven hundred years ago. The sides were carved into columns, ornately decorated at the ends. At the far end, near the overlook to the town, the doorway was arched and the wooden doors at least twenty feet tall with wrought iron handles.

Inside, the cathedral seems even larger than the outside. Chiefly one large room that was at least two if not three stories tall, The ceiling was vaulted and pews lined either side of a long isle that spanned the length of the church. The carvings and paintings on the inside had seen the result of the reformation: they were soft tones, not the vivid colors that they were originally painted in. There were no tapestries on the walls, but the stain glass windows remained in tact. In the rose window was impossibly detailed, consisting of twelve smaller windows aligned like overlapping rose petals. Each petal had five panes, circles depicting stories and surrounded by more colorful detail. Word was that it had been painstakingly restored in the last decade, and Hermione was grateful for it. It was breathtaking.

She spent more than one Saturday up near and in the catherdral, admiring its beauty and looking over the town from the overlook. She found herself sitting on the benches at the top of the hill near the fountain and the cathedral door, reading, often. It was in this fashion that the first two months of her life in Sicily passed.

One Friday morning, the peace of it was shattered. She was sitting in her office, sorting through staff requests, when there was a knock on the door. Hermione looked up and said "enter," to see one of the trainee healers shyly step in.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but there's someone here to see you. I told her you was busy, but she didn't listen and followed me to your office—"

"It's okay, Trainee June. If her need is really that important, then let her in." The trainee nodded, and bowed out, only for a stately blond woman to enter moments later.

Hermione's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she set the papers she was working on down, but did not get up. "Miss Greengrass, what a surprise. To what do I owe your visit?"

Asteria smiled and sat herself down opposite Hermione, "Oh, Healer Granger, I was in the area to write a travel piece of the Daily Prophet, and I heard you were living here now, so I thought I'd come say hi. I haven't seen you since my engagement ball, you see, and that seems ever so long ago."

Hermione gave a genuine smile this time and said, "Well, I'm glad to see you. You know, my workload is thin today, why don't we go grab a coffee and chat? I'd like to hear about your work writing for the Daily Prophet."

"That would be perfect."

Twenty minutes later, the two women sat at an open-air café on the cobblestone, sipping steaming lattes and daintily eating croissants. They had covered most fluffy topics, ranging from weather to apparel. Hermione was the one to finally break the mode and ask about Asteria's career.

"So I take it you got the job writing for the _Daily Prophet_ which you were interviewing for?"

Asteria smiled, "Yes, I did. They've put me on all travel pieces for now, you see, which gives me a great opportunity to see the world at the same time as being published. I've gone to Zurich already for a piece, this is my second official trip. I'll be off to Portugal next, and if I do well, I should be able to go out of Europe within the year. I've got my eyes on China and Japan, you see, but they won't pay for me to go until they know my writing's good."

"That's phenomenal. What do you writing in between the travel pieces?"

"I've been doing more for the entertainment and arts section in between. They don't usually let new staff writers do the heavy political stuff yet, but that will come with time. I'm happy where I am, right now. I never thought I'd be able to do this."

"Oh? Why's that? I'm sure you can do anything you put your mind to."

Asteria gave a weak smile, "My family is a part of pureblood society. The only work women do is keep house."

"Oh," Hermione went quiet, and sipped her coffee again.

"But I'm sure you know of the customs, Healer Granger," at Hermione's alarmed look, Asteria added, "from reading, of course."

Hermione averted her gaze, "Yes, of course," she muttered. Asteria pretended not to notice and apparently changed the subject, "I got lucky, though, in my fiancé. Draco doesn't mind me working, you see. I think it's due to the influence of that impertinent mother of his."

Hermione felt her heart wretch at his name, and didn't respond, instead trying to keep her composure. This woman was marrying Draco Malfoy. And she was a woman that Hermione was beginning to like. That wasn't how it was supposed to be. The rival woman was supposed to be evil, manipulative. She was supposed to be a whore, or worse. Hermione wasn't supposed to like her; but how could she not when Asteria sat there and explained her passion for writing and determination to work in a world where women were not supposed to have those passions and determinations. She was a woman after Hermione's own heart.

"…but that is all the better for me, I suppose. Not that I intend to disregard my societal role and obligations, but I can do both." Asteria paused here, and pointedly took a sip of her coffee, "then again, between my savings and my new job, I could easily find a flat of my own and start life on my won two feet."

Hermione looked confused and asked, "But aren't you… attached… to Mr. Malfoy?" She couldn't quite bring herself to say his name.

A chortling laugh came from Asteria, "My dear, the marriage was arranged by our families. It came short of a marriage contract, but it was arranged nonetheless. Draco is dear to me, but I am not in love with him, nor is he with me. In fact, I have the feeling that he may harbor feelings for someone else. But all that would be naught if he and I got married."

Hermione knew exactly where Asteria was going with this, and suddenly knew the reason for the blonde's visit to Sicily. Maybe she was really writing a travel piece, but it was a secondary objective. She was down here to figure out what was going on between Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. The problem was, Hermione didn't know herself.

Hermione was now flustered, and it showed in her voice and reddening face, "Oh, but he dotes on you. Surely you're not suggesting that he would betray you."

Asteria sighed and put her coffee down, "No, I don't think he would, Hermione. But Draco is incredibly good at denying what he would want for the sake of what he thinks has to be done. Normally I would not be this frank, but I know no other way of getting through to you:

My fiancé is in love with you. He has been a mess since you departed the night of our engagement party. He's been drinking, antisocial and close to clinically depressed. I don't know if you reciprocate these feelings, but I know that, despite it being an arranged match between us, that I am vain enough to want my husband to like me and look at me.

I have told you that I am now in a position, financially, where I _can_ break away from my parents and start a life of my own as I wanted, so, if there _is_ something there I don't need to be in the way. I like you, and I care for Draco, but I will not be used. I suggest you return and talk to Draco about it, to work it out one way or another. And I suggest you do it before my wedding."

Hermione stared openly at Asteria, hardly believing what she was hearing. After several minutes, she found her lost voice, "Miss Greengrass—"

"Asteria," Asteria corrected her firmly, "Seeing the predicament we're in, you may as well use my given name."

"Asteria, I had no idea… No, I knew he still…" Hermione closed her eyes, took a breath, and looked back at the blonde, "Asteria, I'm sorry. What happened between myself and Mr. Malfoy was so long ago, I can't go reopen those wounds. I have a life here, now, that I like, and I can't go back and do this."

"Can't or won't?" Asteria asked, getting up from the table. She put on a smile, "Just do me one favor, Hermione. That villa you're living in? It's got a history. You may want to find it and read up. It's what you do best, isn't it?" And Asteria Greengrass turned away and walked up the street, heels clicking, leaving a shaken Hermione Granger behind her.

* * *

Thank you to all the support and commentary from my readers and reviewers in response to my last author's note - it warmed my heart

~Liza Lew~


	24. Chapter 22: The Journal

**Chapter Twenty-Two: The Journal**

Hermione had long suspected that the house she had bought contained many secrets. She had yet to search it top-to-bottom for hidden pathways and secrets passages. She had, occasionally, come home form work and skimmed a room once through. However, upon Asteria's warning, she made it her sole purpose that Saturday.

She wandered through the entire upper floor for half the day, knocking on walls and checking in crannies. The furniture that had come with the house was moved, opened and shaken. The rooms which she had not yet touched were dusty and cool, and by lunchtime she had gone through a number of them. Just as her stomach was growling, she pushed on a bookcase in a small upstairs room to find it gave a little. Curious, she took out her wand and pointed it at the empty bookcase, saying "Wingardium Leviosa!" with a swish and flick, her book case rose scant inches off the ground and slide to the left, gently landing.

As she suspected, there was a concealed passage behind it. Ducking into the low, stone doorway, she crept forward in the darkness and muttered "Lumos!" want tip ignited, she saw the room ahead of her fill with flickering light. The passage was not long, and soon she came out of it to straighten up and look around.

It was a small room, with no doors other than the one behind her. Its walls were covered in a combination of shelves, some containing books, others what looked like jars of potion ingredients, and various magical artifacts. It seemed one of the previous owners had been a witch or wizard. In the center of the room lay a podium with an open book, yellowing from age. She approached it cautiously and saw it was a spell book, and not the most friendly kind. It looked as gruesome as some of the books she had found in the restricted section of the Hogwarts library.

Shuddering, she withdrew from it and wandered to a corner filled with a wall of magical implements and a corner table. Above the corner table was a small window covered with a thick black curtain. She mindlessly waved her wand at it, and suddenly the room was lit by sunlit. She smiled a bit and inspected the contents of the table. The workings of some potions seemed to be laying there, but the cauldron was long empty. There were several books laying open, and one in particular caught her eye.

It was slender, and the cover plain, and black. The binding was leather, and the pages whiter than the spell books around it. In older, faded ink on the front cover was written in a spiny hand-writing:

_This is the property and writing of Marcus Crouch during his seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the years that follow._

Just below it, in a curvy and feminine handwriting was added:

_And the account of his wife and daughter until the fall of the Dark Lord._

Intrigued, she flipped to the middle to see a date, _April 22, 1977_, and a handwritten entry which consisted of the ingredients for a potion. It was almost as complicated as the one for polyjuice potion, though she couldn't be sure what its effects were. There were cross outs and notes scribbled all over the page, and many drops of what she assumed where the one-time potion. The final copy read as such:

_Heat thirty-two milliliters water for three minutes over a blue flame while stirring counterclockwise continuously. In the second before the boil starts to roll, add two alihotsy leaves while stirring clockwise. Halt stirring, added four cut ginger roots and let simmer for six hours._

_While the main potion simmer, boil one-half gram helleborne under low pressure for a quarter-hour then add two drops mallosweet. Let it sit for the remaining five three-quarter hours before combining quickly with the main concoction. At the same time as pouring the helleborne and mallosweet in to the cauldron, add thirty-five milliliters armadillo bile. Commence stirring in a pattern of three clockwise, one counterclockwise full motions._

_Six blades burnt scurvy-grass must be added one-by-one at each counterclockwise motion, at the beginning of the stroke. The solution should be a deep navy and non-reflective. The final ingredient is one fluxweed plant picked at the dark moon. Upon its introduction to the solution, it should fade until an eerie clear grey._

The bottom had only the note _for the Dark Lord's use._

Shuddering she skipped forward. The next page she looked at contained the direct instructions to a blood-letting spell that made Hermione wince. There was an animated sketch at the bottom of a wizard being drained of his powers. Disturbed, she flipped several years backwards, to the beginning. This time, she found journal entries punctuated by random sketches, notes and designs for spells.

_September 12, 1976_

_I have received this journal as a gift from my father in an effort to get me to think more. I believe he thinks it will be a good place to brainstorm my ideas for spells and contraptions which will eventually aid the mission of the Dark Lord. His tells me that my mind shall be a weapon for the Dark Lord's cause. I agree with the ideals of it, naturally, though I am not yet sure of his methods. Lucius has already joined the Dark Lord, and I am expected to follow. Mother, however, has different ideas. She does not care to either support or deny the Dark Lord's wishes, and for that reason has removed herself from his presence at all times. She works instead on drawing up my marriage agreement with the Prewetts for one of their daughters. I suppose I will hear around holiday time what is to become of that. Regardless, I shall do as she asks. Now, as to this spell I am inventing..._

_September 29_

_I don't think I have ever noticed Elizabeth Danforth before. I was in Hogsmede with Lucius today, down at the Three Broomsticks. We were arguing over the essay Slughorn assigned us when Narcissa and Elizabeth came in giggling about something. She was all breathy and remarkably pretty._

_Lucius said hello to Narcissa, of course, they are betrothed and will be married soon, and Narcissa said hello to me, but Elizabeth only blushed and said hello to Lucius. She'd small, you know. With nice hair. Curly, like. I never noticed before.  
_

_October 2_

_Elizabeth Danforth has told me I am a prat today. She told me in charms class when I made fun of that scruffy mudblood for being so excited about her wand work. __I_ _know that Elizabeth only told me off because she thinks I am dashing, as she told Narcissa, who reported to Lucius. It seems she thinks me quite handsome, but a bit irritating._

_I'm not surprised. Most of the girls find me handsome. Vivian Parkinson asked me to Hogsmede herself the other day, and I turned her down flat. She has a nose like a pig's snout. I shall have to find a way to tease Miss Danforth without making it obvious that I find her pretty. You never tell a girl that you like her, it makes you look like an idiot._

_October 18_

_Lucius has just told me that I shouldn't meddle with Elizabeth Danforth. Apparently, Narcissa says she is _entirely _besotted with me by now. But I am to be married to that Prewett girl, according to mother. So Lucius has informed me that he is not going to let me see her outside of class times. He also hinted that that obnoxious blond child in Ravenclaw, who is a year younger than her, is soon to be engaged to her. _He's _an obnoxious prat if I ever saw one. Old whats-his-name. Line? Lane, perhaps? Why are there all these arranged, unhappy marriages? I find this unfair, since Lucius and Narcissa were able to choose each other._

Hermione ruefully noticed a small picture at the bottom of this page, of a girl. The artistry was not very good, but she could make out that the girl was petite, with curly brown hair. She was animated and laughing, carrying an armful of books and looking this way and that. It seemed Marcus Crouch was not going to heed his friends' advice.

_November 16_

_I have won against that dratted blonde fellow. I've found out that Elizabeth Danforth spends a good deal of time in the library. She is a Ravenclaw, I suppose. And yet, though that Lane fellow has gotten specific instructions to get to know her (as the parents are encouraging the match), he has failed to discover her hiding place. But I have. I happened to see her sneak off to an unknown corner behind plenty of bookshelves one evening and managed to head her off. She giggled and blushed, but I asked her to the next Hogsmede weekend and she accepted._

_Thus, I have just returned from Hogsmede where Elizabeth and I went to the Three Broomsticks to talk, and I learnt she is from a large society family. She has an older sister who is engaged, and she hopes she will be able to marry for love. She is so kind, and pleasant. She cares for everyone around her, and she's Ravenclaw prefect. Apparently she helps the younger students with their work for free. I never knew someone so generous. The only thing that irked me slightly was her greeting of that red-headed little mudblood. Elizabeth's from one of the old lines, why can she not see that we are better than them?_

_We went to Zonko's and Honeyduke's after, and she allowed me to buy her some chocolate, which made her smile. She told me a charming story about her sister's abhorrence to all things chocolate. I think this is a crime against nature, and told Elizabeth so. She laughed and said 'that's Serena for you, always denying things that are good,' I hope Elizabeth is not that way, choosing duty over pleasure. At any rate, I shall see her in our next double-charms class with Ravenclaw and intend to ask her out again._

_I saw in the window of the Jewelry shop a necklace which I decided I shall send her over the holidays_. _The necklace is clear black opals and very fine. They glitter in the light and are square-cut, she shall look marvelous in it. The wrappings are all velvet, so hopefully it will not get touched until she opens it._

Hermione shivered at the description of the necklace. She had seen one in its very likeness during her Hogwarts years. Skimming through the next several months, she found mostly happy descriptions of the young couple and bad drawings of Elizabeth until she came to February of the next year.

_February 2_

_I have not seen Elizabeth in several weeks. It is since I officially joined the Dark Lord and accepted his mark. She does not agree with him, you see. I don't know why, since her blood is very pure, and she would be an excellent asset to his cause, as her charm work is fantastic. Even her friend Narcissa is present, though not a full servant. Although, that may be because her husband is on the Dark Lord's right hand. She told me, in a tearful conversation, that she does not think his actions are justified by his cause. She tells me that mudblood, blood traitors and muggles deserve our respect, too. It is as if she doesn't even value her own blood and privilege. When I said this, she told me that 'with privilege comes responsibility.' She then continued, saying that we have a responsibility to those around us and beneath us, and that we cannot cast them off like old winter coats when we tire of them, nor can we heard them for the slaughter. She does not understand that power of the Dark Lord's cause._

There was a space between this paragraph and the next, where the faded ink had been blotched out by water stains and scribbling on the part of the writer. The next paragraph was written in a shaky but determined hand.

_What am I saying? It is none of my concern what Elizabeth Danforth does or does not do. We are not betrothed, and she scorned me, choosing to sit in the shadows instead of aid the Dark Lord's cause. She is not worth my trouble_.

To Hermione's surprise, the next few months were filled with sketches of spells, ingredients for potions, and notes on various topics of interest to the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. There was not another journal entry for the entirety of the book, but it ended with a letter.

_My dear Marcus,_

_I do not know how to relay this news to you in any acceptable way. There is none. But I must beg your assistance before my family hears of the matter. I mean not to call you away from your duties to the Dark Lord, but I am in a condition. I believe it is a result of our last time together. Please come to my aid._

_Elizabeth_

At the bottom of the letter page was scribbled the last words in Marcus Crouch's handwriting.

_We have eloped, Elizabeth and I. There was no other way in this dark time to remedy the situation. I suppose the circumstances only worked in the favor of my feelings, as I have loved her for a long time, but the manner in which they unfolded was most unexpected. Even the Dark Lord does not know that I am now married and expecting a daughter._

_I can only hope that, by the time she is grown, the Dark Lord will have prevailed and peace will reign the world again. Elizabeth disagrees in support of the Dark Lord, but has the sense to remain quiet, and at the very least wishes for peace from this war. Perhaps what Regulus and I do for the Dark Lord tonight will safeguard the Dark Lord's victory. I need the courage now to do these tasks, no matter myself, for the love and protection of my family. They are the most important thing now._

The pages after that one were blank, save for one piece of paper. A birth certificate, with the name _Hermione_. The words at the bottom specified that the baby was to be placed up for adoption.

Something finally clicked in Hermione's head. This journal, this room, were remnants of her father. Her _birth_ father. Who had been a Death Eater, a Slytherin. How could Elizabeth not tell her? All these years, she had known her birth mother was Elizabeth Lane, society woman, and never once had she bothered to investigate the death of her birth father "in the war." Her father had been darker than she could have imagined. An accomplice in Voldemort's ideals and plans. He had, unknowingly, aided in the placement of a horocrux, if those potion notes were what she thought they were.

Then Hermione paused, and looked at the last sentences of his writing. His family. The woman he loved. Those he loved. They were the most important things to him, and even if his methods of protecting them didn't agree with Hermione's values, they had been actions with courage in the defense of love. Courage. Love. Two of the traits she most valued in people, and in herself. The traits of Godric Gryffindor, the house in which she had been placed.

What the bloody hell was she doing here? She was running away, that was what she was doing. She was avoiding her problems. Being a coward. It was a concept so entirely foreign to her that she hadn't recognized the symptoms.

And not just that, but she had given up on the people she loved. Harry and Ginny, Ron, Neville, Luna. She had not seen them, barely spoken to them in two months. The staff at St. Mungo's. Anthony, her friend, with whom she needed to make things right. Her family. Anna, her sister who needed her support. And Draco. Draco Malfoy. The man who she hated. Who had screwed up her life. But who she inevitably loved. She had to make it right.


	25. Chapter 23: The Break

**Chapter Twenty-Three: The Break**

Asteria Greengrass had shooed the realtor away to look at the apartment herself. This one was nice, she could see that. The view from the large windows overlooked the city below her, bustling around. She could get used to that. Granted, the rooms were smaller than she was used to. However, if she wanted to be a working girl, on her own, she may as well resign to it. The place was clean, and one bedroom, a bathroom, and a living area adjoining to the kitchen were all she needed for the time being. Sighing, she knew she had made up her mind.

A few hours later found Asteria signing the papers in the main office of the building, hardly believing she was doing so. Her career was set, her bank account at Gringott's had been separated from her family's. She now had an apartment of her own. She would move her belongings in the week to come.

This meant that, come the end of the week, there was only one more thing to sort out before she continued on with her own life.

On Saturday evening, Asteria glided in to the Parkinson's stately foyer by herself. She was a vision in a light silver, off-the-shoulder dress. The skirt was long, and the fabric was light and supple. Her hair was pinned into a twist on the side of her head, and dangling diamond earrings hung from each ear. She was holding a sliver clutch her gloved hands, and the only hint of color from her pale face were her deep red painted lips.

She did not double-check her appearance as her coat was handed to the waiting doorman, unlike the other woman, but walked right away around the entryway fountain to greet her friend.

"Pansy my dear, you have out done yourself!" Asteria exclaimed, smiling at the brunette.

"Oh, it's nothing, Asteria, nothing at all. Just our everyday décor in the foyer. But, wait until you see the ballroom this evening. We've finally removed the navy-coloured rugs and replaced them with a beautiful gold and silver pattern. And the ceiling mural's just been repainted, it will be touched up just before my wedding next summer."

"I cannot wait to see," Asteria clasped hands with Pansy, and then left, entering the ballroom and allowing the next guest greet the hostess.

The ballroom was just as spectacular as Pansy had described it, almost all the decorations glittered in the candlelit from their gold and silver colouring. The crowd, she could see, was about half present, and consisted only of the highest pureblood society members. Choosing to greet Phoenixa and Christopher Parrol, she took a glass of champagne and went to join them.

Draco Malfoy arrived under a starless sky to the Parkinson home. He was dress in black, and looked formal but solemn. He was among the last of the guests to come, slipping in after the official welcoming speech by the hostess. His late appearance did not go unnoticed, however. The hostess herself found him almost immediately.

"Oh Draco, I was wondering if you were going to show up at all," Pansy cooed into his ear, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Pansy. Charming as ever," he turned to greet his old friend.

"Aren't I just?" Pansy dropped her arm and twirled in her gown, "Isn't it lovely? I had Madam Malkin make it specially for this party. After all, Gregory and I get married within the year, and I figure I must look good for all the other men until that point."

Draco raised an eyebrow and accepted the offered glass of wine from the nearby waiter, but let Pansy continue, her eyes glittering, "That includes you, you know. And, you are going to be required to dance with the hostess at least once this evening, darling. I demand it. So don't down too much alcohol before the dancing starts. I want you lucid enough to lead," she smirked in his direction, but he smirked back and raised his glass to her before taking another sip of the wine in front of him.

Pansy rolled her eyes in a most unladylike way and pointedly turned to grab one of the other ladies that was walking by, settling her grip on the rather tipsy brunette and turning her to face Draco. "Cecily, dear, don't you think our Draco looks handsome tonight?"

The girl, who was probably six years Draco's junior, giggled and turned red, letting her champagne glass slosh a little, "Yes Mademoiselle Pansy, very handsome."

Pansy grabbed the chin of the girl and forced her to face her, telling her, "And he won't look as good if he downs too much to drink, will he?"

The girl had a confused look on her face, and Pansy shook the girl's head for her, moving her chin slowly back and forth. Pansy continued, "And that means he won't be good-looking enough to dance, will he?" The girl shook her head on her own this time, a fearful look in her eyes. Pansy smirked, "And do you know who else that applies to?"

The girl gave a blank stare, and Pansy nipped the champagne glass out of her guest's hand. "You. Now go sober up before your mother sees you." She released the girl and turned to Draco, who was very much amused.

Across the room, Asteria was chatting with a little group of wizards and witches, taking care to not mention her career, but rather be quiet and demur as any good society witch was raised. She was listening to a Ministry of Magic employee complain about cauldron bottom regulations when she felt a hand on her hip and breath on her shoulder.

"Milady."

"Blaise!" Asteria was startled and whirled around to face her friend, who had a devilish smile on his playful lips. She felt a slight blush begin to rise in her cheeks, and struggled to prevent it from showing. Taking her clutch, she gently slapped his arm.

"What in the world are you doing?" she demanded.

"Why, leading you off for a dance," he replied innocently, the only hint of his devilish smile from a second ago showing in the gleam of his eyes.

She swatted him a second time, "I am in the middle of a conversation. Besides that, the music hasn't even started. You know how Pansy loves to have the first dance and show off."

Again he assumed the position of innocence and gave a slight shrug, "Maybe we don't need music to dance."

Against her will, she felt a shiver down her spine, but crossed her arms. He mockingly bowed to her and offered his hand. She didn't even look at it, but instead met his gaze, though it was a good foot above hers, as if daring him to do better.

He sighed, "I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this." he moved closer to her and began to scoop her up as if she was a feather.

"Put me DOWN," she whacked him with her clutch repeatedly, clearly making a scene until he laughed and set her on her feet. The society types around them were staring, but neither seemed to notice. He stooped over to meet her eye-to-eye, "At least come get a drink with me?"

She blew her hair out of her face and huffed, "Fine." And the two of them walked, side-by-side, to one of the many antechambers.

Draco had escaped Pansy briefly, only to be accosted by multiple young girls, each as pretty and petty as the next. He currently found himself surrounded by a tall, dark-eyed brunette, a short, petite blonde, and a curvy red-head, each of whom he could not remember the name of. Oddly, every comment that came from any of them made him drink more. Many girls seemed to have that effect on him.

The blonde was wide-eyed as she waved her fan around, "Is it true you're running St. Mungo's?"

"Oooh," the red-head interjected, "You must be brilliant to be a healer!"

"I'm not a healer," Draco said patiently.

The brunette looked confused, "Then you don't work at St. Mungo's? But my uncle said…"

"I work at St. Mungo's. I'm just not a healer," another swig of the wine was in order. He also felt it necessary to loosen his necktie.

"Umm, St. Mungo's is a hospital. I thought only healers worked at hospitals," the blonde twiddled with her fan as she spoke, as if to give signals to the other girls.

"No, stupid. They have other people who work there too. Like the lady who runs the tea-room. I met her when my cousin got burnt from cooking," the red-head scolded the blonde.

"But I thought you didn't go to the hospital when that happened! She said you didn't even visit her!" the brunette said vehemently.

The blonde giggled, "She went so she could see the _other_ cousin, the boy one. He's quite cute."

"You weren't supposed to tell anybody that!" the red-head protested.

"Oops," the blonde's eyes glittered with malice as her face covered the lower portion of her face, "but really, he wasn't that good looking anyways."

The red-head glared at the blonde, and the brunette took advantage of their distraction to be the only one paying attention to Draco. She sidled closer to him and accidentally brushed her arm against him. "So Mr. Malfoy, do you like the cut of my dress? It is a new fashion that was picked up from France…"

She went on about her own clothes and appearances, and Draco, desperate for something to do, scanned the room. There was Goyle, with a pained expression on his face, talking to Pansy, who was visibly annoyed. Nothing exciting there. There was his sister and her husband. He would have to say hello to her sooner rather than later, as she never liked it when he drank. Over there was his mother, conversing with Madame Zabini. He glanced up at the grand staircase, and prevented his thoughts from wandering to Miss Granger but instead turned to see Asteria walking to one of the antechambers with Blaise. They had always been good friends, he supposed. Daphne, it seemed, was making a scene in the opposite corner. He laughed inwardly at her antics, but then his attention was called back to the group in front of him as one of the ladies asked a question.

Blaise was playful with Asteria as they walked to a deserted antechamber. As he wasn't married or engaged, he had more freedom than most of their schoolmates, and his reputation had been shot after dating that French girl anyways.

She did her best to duck and slide out of the way, to make movements in the opposite direction as him. She partially succeeded, but found his arm around her by the time they sat down on the sofa in the antechamber. She turned to look at him and smirked. She wasn't in any real danger, she could tell that he was being playful and hadn't had anything to drink. Besides that, they had known each other for her whole life, and he'd always been a good friend. Playful or not, she needed someone to talk to.

He saw her smirk and pretended to give a look of innocence, "What? Two friends aren't allowed to cuddle?"

She rolled her eyes and resigned herself to the fact that she was stuck with him for the time being, feeling like she may as well play along. "Are you accusing me," she gave a dramatic flare and put her open hand on her heart, "of diminishing cuddle time?"

He paused for dramatic effect, then answered quite frankly, "Yes."

She smiled and leaned back, resting her head on his shoulder. "My life is a mess, Blaise."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. Pretty much." She closed her eyes and relaxed for the first time in a long time. He smiled in her direction and let her drift off. He figured that he may not be getting that dance, but some things were worth it.

Pansy opened the dance floor with Goyle, as was demanded by society, but as soon as she could shrug him off, snatched Draco from the middle of his group of girls. She glared slightly at him, because she saw he had been drinking, but forced him on to the dance floor with her vice grip anyways. She started chatting at him as his mind wandered. He glanced Blaise and Asteria over Pansy's shoulder, and his conversation with Asteria that very afternoon wandered into his mind.

"_I know that we are engaged out of arrangement, not out of love, but I am vain enough to at least want my fiancé to like me, and have his eyes on me, Draco."_

_There __was __an uncomfortable pause, then Draco said, "I am sorry if it seems like my thoughts have wandered, my dear. I am better now, once we are married—"_

_Asteria sighed, "That's just it, Draco. We're not going to be."_

"_Asteria, I'm a gentleman. I would never go back on my word. I agreed to marry you, in the full understanding that it was arranged, so that you might start a career, and be taken care of."_

_Asteria smiled weakly, "I know. But you have kept your promise beautifully. And now I am releasing you from it." She very gracefully removed the ring on her finger and held it out to Draco. "This ring belongs to another witch."_

"_But your career, your dreams—"_

"_Will happen whether my parents like it or not. I am now fully employed at the Daily Prophet as a staff writer, and have just signed the lease on my new apartment in muggle London. I am capable of taking care of myself."_

_Draco looked at her, admiring her ambition. She smiled again, kissed Draco on the cheek and then got up to leave. Just before she was out of ear shot, she turned around her shoulder and said, so only Draco could hear, "I think she'll still have you, if you let her."_


	26. Chapter 24: The Return

**Chapter Twenty-Four: The Return**

Harry was sitting at his desk, filing through reports on a recent capture when a soft knock echoed on his door. He looked up, called 'come in,' and saw a flash of red hair before grinning. He kissed his fiancée briefly then set down his papers.

"I wasn't expecting to see you until tonight," Harry smiled.

Ginny shrugged a bit, "thought I'd stop by on my way home, just to say hi." She shifted a bit and looked around the office.

Harry said dryly, "Just to say hi?"

"Well…" Ginny sighed. "Ron stopped by the pitch today. Watched the flying and such. Anyways, we got to talking."

"About…?"

"Hermione."

"He's not…"

"No, no," Ginny shook her head vigorously, "he doesn't have feelings for her again. But he's concerned. So am I. She should be back here, home. Not to mention she hasn't told any of us what happened to upset her so much."

Harry didn't respond for a second, then said, slightly resigned, "You want me to go check up on her?"

"Yes and no. We want you to bring her home. She's been your best friend for a decade, Harry. We're worried about her, and you're the best person for the job."

"Well then," Harry got up, kissed Ginny on the forehead, "seems like I need to find my broom."

A knock on the front door, downstairs, shook Hermione out of her thoughts. She had a visitor in her house. Truly, it was her house, as it seemed this villa had once belonged to her ancestors. She wondered, ruefully, if it had been Elizabeth who had been selling it. She hadn't know who the previous owner was, at the very least. Wiping her eyes, she made her way down.

She opened the door and looked in to a familiar pair of bright green eyes. Harry took one look at her and engulfed her in a bear hug. When he let go, he looked down at her and said one sentence, "You need to come home."

Hermione smiled, laughed, wiped the tears of relief coming from her eyes and nodded. "I was thinking the same thing."

Her leave of absence had been sent to the hospital and her suitcase packed within the hour. Harry levitated her suitcase on to the back of his Firebolt and she grimaced as she walked out onto the porch.

"Do we _have_ to fly there?"

Harry grinned, "Call it my revenge for you barely speaking to us all for two months. Besides, it's too far to apparate. Come on, get up."

A few hours later, a windswept Hermione stood in Harry's living room, being smothered by Ginny, who was chatting incessantly. "… and Neville's been working with dendacula leaves for a potion, can you believe it? His N.E.W.T. students are helping him invent it, it's a cure…"

"Ginny, let Hermione breath," Harry said, gently placing a hand on his fiancée's shoulder. Ginny blushed red, and relinquished her embrace and endless flow of news. "I'm glad you're back, though. It's been quiet without you." Ginny said.

"I don't know how long I'm back for, Ginny. My career is down in Sicily now," Hermione gave her friend an apologetic face, "I just need to straighten things out here."

Ginny huffed off and Harry turned to Hermione, "If I didn't know better, Hermione, I would say that you deserve much more than that small hospital."

"How did you—"

"When I came down to find you, I looked at your workplace first. You have a tendency to overwork yourself, and even though it's Saturday, I figured you might be down there. The trainee healers told me where you were."

"Oh."

"I've never seen you run away Hermione, and it was time to bring you back. I don't know the particulars about everything right now, but you've been my best friend for a decade, and I knew you needed to return home."

"Thanks, Harry."

"It's what friends are for," he shrugged, "and the guest room is all set for you to stay, if you want. Instead of going back to your cottage, I mean."

"I think staying over would be good for me."

Harry, Ginny and Hermione spent a quite evening eating pasta and tomato sauce, and chatting about everything. Harry and Ginny had not told anyone else that Hermione had returned to England yet, and they didn't badger her about what was going on that had made her leave in the first place. Instead, they updated her on everything that had happened in the last two months.

Neville, as Ginny had said, was working with several of his N.E.W.T. students with the properties of the dendecula leaves, and having quite a bit of academic success. Luna, it seems, had left on a journey through southern China just after Hermione had departed, to classify different plants and animals. Ron had gotten in to an accident at the joke shop due to a few pranksters, but the rummage was cleaned up quickly and a trainee healer came in to heal Ron up on the spot. Hermione felt a twinge of guilt at this; she should have been the one to patch her friend up, it was why she had become a healer. To take care of people, especially her family and friends.

By the time Ginny left for the evening, Hermione had gotten the full update, and was fully ready to fall asleep. No sooner had Harry dismissed her proposal to help with the dishes than she had fallen asleep in the comfy guest bed.

Hermione woke the next morning to birds twittering and a brightly lit room. For a moment, she wondered where she was. Then it came back to her: she was back in England, staying in Harry's guest room. She shook herself awake and got up. She had work to do today.

In the space of an hour, she was dress and at a café in Diagon Alley sipping her coffee. From across the alley, she saw Anthony Goldstein approach in his healer's robes. She got up to greet him and smiled.

"Anthony. How are you?" she extended a hand for him to shake, which he took, but he did not look his cheery self. She noticed, with a pang, that his hand was warm beneath hers.

They sat down and he responded, "Alright. Busy as ever."

"That's right. I hear you're now Healer-In-Charge of the Spell Damage Division. Congratulations."

"Thanks," he said shortly, avoiding her gaze. He turned to the approaching waiter and ordered a cup of coffee to fill the space of a minute. He then turned back to Hermione.

She was sipping her coffee and had decided that they may as well get this over with. No matter what she tried, they would not have a normal conversation until the topic was closed. "So," she started, looking him directly in the eyes, "what was that kiss about?"

He squirmed a bit under her gaze, looking very uncomfortable, and took a breath before responding, with an apologetic tone, "I didn't mean… I mean… I did it all out of order, Hermione. I was going to ask you out. I've liked you for years, but you were always my friend, and the timing never seemed right. Then, you were so beautiful at the party, and the setting was so romantic…" his voice trailed off.

"Oh," Hermione was a bit pink, and took a sip of her coffee, "I, um… I'm sorry, Anthony. I never thought of you as more than a friend. Besides, you wouldn't want me. I think I'm still in love with someone else."

In the time it took Hermione to say that last sentence, Anthony's demeanor when from that of a hurt puppy to a fiercely upset one. His tone edged on dangerous as he said, "He's not good for you, Hermione. Not like I'd be good for you." He reached out and took her hand across the table, and she hastily pulled back.

"How do you know?" she didn't let him respond, but continued, "It's none of your business. And I don't know what you think you know, but whether there was another man or not, I _just_ _told you_ I have only ever see you as a friend, and would never wish harm on you. In fact," she opened her purse, took out a few coins for her coffee, and stood up, "I think you need some space, and some time. Go meet someone. There are plenty of pretty girls who would like to date a Healer-In-Charge."

He looked aghast at her commentary, and began to open his mouth, but she held out a hand and continued, "I'm not kidding, you know. I've a guess that you love the idea of me, Anthony, not actually me. And I do care for you, but only as a friend. I would like to be your friend again, some day. Right now, though, it's best that we have some space so you can move on," she smiled gently, "and, best of luck at Mungo's." She turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Anthony behind her. She was back.


	27. Chapter 25: The Envelope

**Chapter Twenty-Five: The Envelope**

That afternoon found Hermione walking down the main street of her little town in Kent. Nothing had changed in her months of absence. The quiet square still had the same shops and stores. The people went about their daily routines smiling and greeting each other. The leaves of fall had devolved to the light snow of early winter. The dusting of white did not fully cover the ground, but it was cool enough that the corduroy jackets of fall had been replaced by the down coats of winter.

As Hermione circled the main square, she pondered her next few days. She would have to stay in England through tomorrow at least; for tonight was Anna's engagement party. Strangely, she had not heard from Anna in quite some time, and hoped that her re-entrance into society had not been a total nightmare and that her fiancé was acceptable.

Not to mention she had to pack up her house. She'd avoided it thus far. It was as if a small part of her wanted to stay her, but her career was now in the Mediterranean. Harry had been trying to talk her in to looking around the area again, but she didn't know of any openings. Besides that, now that there was some conclusion with Anthony, and she had patched up with Harry and Ginny; not to mention she would be able to check on Anna in a few hours; there was only one person she needed to talk to.

Her mind wandered back to her conversation with Anthony. She had been shocked, the first time the dialogue had run back through her mind. She had told Anthony not that she was interested in someone else, nor that her romantic life was complicated. No, she had said _I'm still in love_. She had used the word _love_ without a second thought. Without hesitating, just in the normal flow of conversation. Moreover, the way in which she had worded it was such that she had been in love for a long time. _Still in love_. What had possessed her? Was in true? In her heart, did she love that man, as she had so asserted to Anthony?

But beyond that, what would she say when she saw him? _If_ she saw him again? She paused, and remembered. Tonight was her half-sister's engagement party. And Anna Lane was Draco Malfoy's gods-sister. He was bound to be there this evening. Her heart gave a jolt. How was she supposed to approach him? How was she supposed to talk to him? Was it safe to give herself away? To tell him what she felt? He had said, months ago, on the evening of _his_ engagement, that he loved her. But did it still hold true? How could she be sure? How in the world could she command the courage to talk to him, when she had so completely and utterly dismissed him the last time they had been face to face? If she saw him this evening, she didn't know that she yet had the strength to resolve that chapter in her life, one way or another. Anthony Goldstein was one thing. Draco Malfoy was an entirely different being.

And yet it had been her purpose for coming back to England, hadn't it? A part of her rebelled at the thought, yelling in her mind _no, you came back to tie up loose ends with Anthony, with St. Mungo's, and with Harry, Ginny and Ron. _The larger part of her, however, knew that those were secondary reasons to why she came back. They were as insignificant as packing up her house was.

She shook her head and finally turned down the walk leading to her little cottage. As she came upon it, it looked much the same as always. There was a dusting of snow, covering it like frosting on a gingerbread house. But it was the same shape, the same cozy little place behind the fence. It had lost some of its warmth in the last few months, un-lived in as it was.

She went up the little pathway, closing the gate behind her and open the front door with a slight creak. Closing the door behind her, she looked through the entryway, hands on her hips. She would have to pack up most of her belongings tomorrow, she only had a few hours until she had to go to the Lane Mansion in support of her sister. Looking from the living room to the dining room, her gaze then went up the stairs to the open door of her book room. That is where she would start.

She started at the right-side wall and worked top to bottom. Her books were already organized on their shelves, so the packing was very straight forward. Several hover charms accounted for the larger tomes, and each and every one got packed in to the boxes she had purchased earlier that day. Sometimes, she would stop and skim through particular books, remembering when she read them and why. Wry smiles would come to her face at particularly interesting bits of knowledge or stories that acted as inside jokes.

By the time she got to the middle wall, it was late into the afternoon. She was seated in front of the shelf, taking books off the lower shelves when she saw one volume in particular. A beautiful, hardcover compilation, it was navy blue with silver flowers twining around the cover. There was one word at the bottom of the front cover: _Austen_. Hermione smiled and pulled the book out, intending to flip through it. As she pulled it out, she heard a dull, flopping noise, as if something had dropped behind the shelf.

Setting the works of Jane Austen aside, she lit her wand tip and peered behind the shelf. Something was back there, but she couldn't make it out. She stuck her hand in to the darkness and felt paper. Curious, she grabbed at it and pulled out a thick envelope of expensive parchment.

Her brows knitted for a moment as she tried to place it. Then, a memory faded in to her mind, slowly as if waterlogged. The day Anna had been summoned home, she had stomped off to Draco Malfoy's office, and his receptionist had given her this envelope. She had never opened it. Curious now, she sat down on the floor and delicately ripped the top off the envelope.

There were several stacks of documents inside, at least four of which she recognized; they were her resume, transcripts and recommendations from her application to St. Mungo's for Healer-In-Charge. The other documents were informative pamphlets, about the LeFay Hopitale in Paris. They had moving diagrams of some of the most brilliant healers in the modern era performing surgeries and saving lives. Underneath this all, she saw a blank employment application and a letter addressed to her.

_From the desk of Draco Malfoy_

_September 26, 2002_

_Hermione,_

_I am sincerely sorry that the board did not choose to appoint you to the position of Healer-In-Charge of the Spell Damage Divison at St. Mungo's._

_I know, and fully understand, that you are seeking a new job that is not a dead-end as your position as a resident here seems to be. I have heard, from as reliable source, that the Lefay Hopital in Paris, France will be hiring a new Healer to co-run their Spell Damage Division starting this coming January, at which time their pediatric Spell Damage Healer intends to retire._

_My contacts there have informed me that they will not begin accepting applications and conducting interviews until early November of this year, but I have pulled some strings and suggested your name to them in any case. I also took the liberty of forwarding them your records and application materials from St. Mungo's. _

_I expect they will get in contact with you closer to the time, and I hope that the opportunity presented here will make amends for the abominable behavior of the board at St. Mungo's._

_Good Luck,_

_Draco Malfoy_

_P.S. I want you to know that if you do succeed in getting a job at the Lefay Hopital, it will be of your own doing. All I did was use family connections to open a door for you. It's your choice to walk through it or not. Take care._

Hermione sat there, dusty from the books, in complete shock, with the letter in her hand for longer than she realized. When she came too, dusk was falling outside. She had to get ready for the ball.

* * *

Thanks to all my lovely readers who have stuck with me this summer! I'm sorry the last few updates haven't been as regular; life is quite hectic. But thanks again to my beta, Flossey; and all of you who take the time to review and give me feedback.

As for the story, you all have been begging for more Draco/Hermione interactions, and they are right around the corner... along with the conclusion of _Starlit Skies _in only five more chapters!

~Liza Lew~


	28. Chapter 26: The Marriage Contract

**Chapter Twenty-Six: The Marriage Contract**

Her dress was a deep red this evening. The V-neckline was deep and the shoulders sleeveless. The skirt was grand and slightly poufy, with a chapel train. It was the kind of dress that looked good moving. Her hair was up again, it was less of a hassle that way, but she had worked pearls and ribbon in to it, which matched her simple earrings. Her neck was bare of necklaces, but a single strand of pearls served as a bracelet. As the sister of the betrothed, Hermione had to look spectacular.

She would not, actually, get to see Anna until the announcement was completed and the dance floor opened, so she spent the time beforehand looking around the room for people she knew and making polite conversation with some ministry employees.

There didn't seem to be many of her crowd present. None of her Hogwarts friends were there, though she'd spotted Pansy Parkinson and Gregory Goyle, arm in arm. Surprisingly, they were not bickering this evening, but sported large smiles. She greeted Neville's grandmother, but Augusta told Hermione that Neville was teaching this time of year, and couldn't come down for events. Blaise Zabini was sulking in a corner with a blonde who she couldn't see through the shadows, but she had never known him well, so small chat was not on her mind.

She was stopped by a trainee healer from St. Mungo's, who inquired after her new job, and asked her several questions about different procedures. She noted that while the trainee updated her on all the patients she had known, and most of the staff, she avoided talking about Anthony entirely.

Phoenixa Malfoy Parrol and her husband greeted Hermione warmly, as did Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, both couple independently estatic to see her and inquiring after her new life. She did not, however, see Draco Malfoy among the crowd. She noted his absence with peaked interest – this was, after all, the engagement party of his gods-sister. Not to mention her own, more personal reasons for wishing he was near.

After a glass of champagne, and a particularly interesting story about a misuse of magic case involving a hair dryer and a ginger from one of the elder men in the conversation, a clock chime called all the guests to attention.

Elizabeth Lane and her husband came to the top of the stairway and smiled, arm in arm. Elizabeth looked around the room briefly, and then began, "Welcome, friends, guests, to the engagement party of our precious daughter. Thank you for responding to our invitation. In an effort to keep the speech-making to a minimum, I would like to introduce the newly engaged couple, Anna Elizabeth Lane and William Trenton Smith."

There was a general applause as Elizabeth and her husband stepped aside, and then, there was Anna, at the top of the stairs. She was in a sea blue dress, with a halter neckline and a slender skirt that went to the floor, leaving a chapel-length train. The fabric was supple and sparkling in the lights. Her hair was up, a mass of ringlets spilling to frame her face. Her chocolate brown eyes were alight with excitement, and her hand rested on the arm of the man beside her.

The couple began descending the staircase, and Hermione frowned. She recognized this boy from somewhere, but they were too far away to tell. She tapped her champagne glass with her finger and tried to place him. Then, as the couple stepped down to the dais and in to the center light of the room, she saw it. It was none other than Trent Smith, the muggle boy from the University.

Trent led Anna on to the dance floor and the violins struck up as they began the first dance. Gradually other couples joined them, until Hermione found herself looking at a full dance floor, wondering why in the world her younger sister had not owled her with the news.

At the first opportunity, Hermione cornered her sister. "Oh, that," Anna smiled ruefully, "He knew about the engagement as soon as it was made, and Mother asked him not to tell me. Problem was, he knew when he met me that I was a witch and didn't tell me he was a wizard, so I probably wouldn't have believes him in any case. Seems he didn't know you were a witch, though."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, "Interesting. How's that possible?"

Anna grimaced, "My name. I gave him my surname when we first met. He'd heard of my coming betrothal to the Aaderon heir."

Hermione paused for a moment before responding, "You're not referencing the Aaderons as in Healer Aaderon of St. Mungo's?"

"Well of course. How many of them do you think there are?" Anna said in a matter-of-fact tone, "their heir is the eldest son of the head healer at St. Mungo's."

Hermione looked aghast, "but he's nigh on twenty years older than you!"

"I know," Anna sipped her champagne, "but mother didn't care. She was trying to save the respectability of the family by marrying me off to someone with a good name. She had the whole contract drawn up while I was living with you."

"And dating Trent," Hermione noted.

Anna nodded, "And dating Trent. You really should have been there when I found out, Hermione. He was so pleased, and expected me to be happy right away. Except, well, I wasn't. I was pissed."

Hermione gave a smirk and shrugged, "I can imagine a bit. Your temper tends to be like mine."

"I poured coffee on him when I found out. Ruined his best dress robes. I then stomped on his foot, and paraded out of the room with my head high while he hopped around. Mother came after me to scold me, of course, but I think _his _relations found it funny. They're quite wonderful, you see. Nothing like out extended family. They're loud, and there are a million young kids, but they're fun, and, well, a family. I'm sure I wouldn't have been blessed with that if the contract had been completed with the Aaderon heir."

"So how did it change?" Hermione asked, curious.

"Well," Anna grinned again, "The contract was all drawn up, and my name was in it, you see, so I couldn't be taken out. But before Mother put the Aaderon heir's name in, she was stalled by Draco. Draco didn't want me married off to an older man with no sense of humor, but Mother was going to sign it anyways, because there were no suitable alternatives.

Draco's sister told me that somehow Draco found out I was dating someone, and he made the connection that it was Trent. He told Mother, you see, and convinced her to make the deal with the Krieger family instead, so at least it would be someone my age, and someone I liked to boot. I just wish I had been in on it from the start, rather than anyone's tool."

"Oh," Hermione had found out far more this day than she cared to admit. She let Anna jabber on about other things, but her mind was far from the party the rest of the evening. Her eyes meandered the room, and suddenly her eyes locked with a pair of grey eyes across the hall. Draco Malfoy _had_ come to his god-sister's engagement party, after all. As soon as he saw Hermione, he turned and went out to one of the other rooms.

Without thinking, Hermione found herself handing her champagne glass off to someone and slipping out of the group. Her feet followed the path his had taken not a minute ago, and she found herself slipping out of the rooms where the party was occurring. She had not been this way in years. She ducked through a low door-hanging and followed the echo of footsteps down a long, narrow hallway that was unlit. Hearing a door creak in front of her, she quickened her pace and hoisted her skirts.

At the end of the hallway was a door with a brass handle. With an odd sense of foreboding and familiarity, she turned the handle and opened it. She was thrown back six years to a summer she had spent reading in this room. It was her little book-room. Every inch of wall was covered in bookshelves in this square room, and the cozy armchairs and little size tables looked as if she had just left them. The lighting was dim, and only when the candles flickered did she see that the door to the hidden stair was open a crack. She knew where this lead. It was to the balcony of the large library.

Stealing a moment to steady herself, she took a shaky breath and lit her wand tip with a quiet whisper of "lumos." She crept forward to the stairway and opened the door a bit more, stepping cautiously through it. She hear a noise right below her, and couldn't know what it was. Threading her way down the winding stairway, she exited on the second floor balcony of the library, from which she could see the rest of the massive room. The starlit skies shown through the great glass window and gave a pale light to corners of the room.

In one particular corner, she saw the figure of a tall man leaning down to embrace a woman. She heard a giggle and then, in a voice that was all too familiar, a girlish "Stop it!" She saw the head of the man turn down, and before she could pull her eyes away, saw the two begin to kiss.

Grateful for the darkness which masked all but their silhouettes, but horrified by the fact that she knew who they were, she crept backwards to the staircase, as quietly as possible. It was only when she had shut the door to the secret stair that she realized there were tears streaming down her cheeks. It had been the voice of Asteria Greengrass. She had gotten here too late.

Angry with herself, she fled the room, not looking where she was going. When she got halfway down the corridor, she ran straight in to someone. The figure in front of her gave an "Oof!" and stumbled backwards.

Hermione looked up and couldn't make out the figure in front of her, other than it was about her height. The person raised a wand and ignited the tip, throwing the scene into high relief. Elizabeth Lane was standing in front of her daughter, looking shaken but stately in her formal robes.

"Hermione! What are you doing back here?" Elizabeth demanded.

Hermione held her chin up defiantly and looked her birth mother straight in the eye. "Nothing, Mrs. Lane."

There was a flicker of pain across Elizabeth's face, but she did not ask other questions, and merely turned around to start walking away.

"Why did you do it?" Hermione's voice was so quiet it was almost deadly, but at the same time had the innocence of a wondering child about it.

Elizabeth stopped in her tracks. Not turning back, she asked, "Do what, dear?" Hermione walked up until she was right behind Elizabeth and said, right in to her ear, "Place your daughter in a marriage contract when you yourself know what it's like to love and be loved."

Elizabeth pursed her lips and closed her eyelids, then answered, "I don't know what you're talking about." Yet she did not move from where she stood, as if waiting for Hermione to respond.

"Yes, you do." Hermione stood, waiting, until Elizabeth rotated slowly on the spot and the two locked eyes. It was only then that Hermione continued. "I bought a villa in Sicily. I did some research in to its history."

Elizabeth's eyes widened in the wandlight, disbelieving. "But I sold the villa to a new healer at their hospital; we don't need it in the family anymore…"

"I'm a fully trained healer. And I happen to be working at that hospital." Hermione was loosing patience, "Were you or were you not in love with my birth father, Marcus Crouch, at the time of the first war?"

"It's irrelevant," Elizabeth quipped.

"No, it's not," Hermione said, a bit more gently, "not if it's the reason I'm standing here."

Elizabeth's eyes shifted here and there, as if sweeping the corridor to make sure no one was listening. "I was very young when I met Marcus. I didn't fully comprehend the dangers of the world." She took Hermione's hand in her own, "You must understand, what I'm doing for Anna, what I tried to do for you all those years ago; I didn't want you two to end up like me. Pregnant, eloped, then widowed. You can't begin to understand that pain, of not only losing the person you love, but in the process being disowned by your family. At least if you were married to good men, you'd be content and well cared for." As quickly as she had grasped Hermione's hand, she let it drop, and turned, rustling her skirts. Before Hermione knew it, she was standing in a dark corridor, by herself.


	29. Chapter 27: The Cowardice

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Cowardice**

He had seen her, of course, across the room. She looked stunning this evening. He had seen her, also, lock eyes with him and then make a beeline in his direction. And he had fled. He knew the Lane Mansion as well as he knew Malfoy Manor, the fact that no lights were lit was not an issue.

He heard rather than saw a small figure running after him and picked up his pace, running into a corridor he knew she would run straight past. Sliding into the shadows just as she rounded the corner, he saw that burgundy dress flash past the alcove he had slipped into and continue down the hallway. He had avoided her. There was no way she would turn around. But then why couldn't he move?

He stood there, debating with himself, convincing his body that it was safe to move, that she was not coming back, but failed. Petrified for ten minutes, he heard soft footsteps on his left.

His eyes caught a glimpse of silvery grey fabric, and he realized his godmother, Elizabeth Lane, was walking by herself through the dim hallways of her home on the night of her daughter's engagement party. Intrigued, he began to move out of the alcove, but stopped mid-pose as a burgundy object came hurdling down the hallway and slammed into Elizabeth.

Draco froze. It was Hermione. Elizabeth stumbled backwards, nearly loosing her balance, and mumbled "oof!" The two women sized each other up, and Elizabeth lit her wand with a murmur of "lumos."

Upon seeing the identity of the lady in front of her, Elizabeth asked, in an anxious tone, "Hermione! What are you doing back here?"

The side of the wall obscured Hermione from Draco's view, but he heard the Gryffindor say in a haughty tone, "Nothing, Mrs. Lane." Draco cringed for the sake of Elizabeth; Hermione had just purposefully called her birth mother by the most formal title possible. Draco saw Elizabeth's weight shift, and start to turn away. Then, something stopped Elizabeth in her tracks. Draco suspected Hermione had whispered a question, as Elizabeth, not turning to face Hermione asked in a matter-of-fact tone, "Do what, dear?"

For the first time, Hermione's face came into view as she came forward to just behind Elizabeth's. Draco saw Hermione's lips move, but could not make out the words. He saw a shiver go down Elizabeth's spine as she closed her eyes. Elizabeth snapped, in a haughty tone, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Neither woman moved for a full minute, and finally Hermione spoke. "Yes, you do." It was now that Elizabeth rotated around to face Hermione. Draco felt shock jolt him. Elizabeth's face was ghostly white, and her eyes held _fear_. Hermione did not seem to pick up on this, and Draco could see a fire in her eyes. She continued, "I bought a villa in Sicily. I did some research in to its history."

Draco saw the fear in his godmother's eyes expand. She mumbled something, and Hermione gave a straight response. Draco was processing. Sicily, Sicily. A villa in Sicily… what had he heard about a family villa in Sicily? But try as he might, he could not remember the story. He knew there was _something_ in the back of his mind, and that he should know the reference, but it refused to stick. By the time Draco resigned himself to not knowing the story, he heard a name that jolted his memory.

It was Elizabeth's voice that said it, "I was very young when I met Marcus," That was it. Now Draco found a story from his father embedded in his memory. Marcus Crouch had been one of Lucius' family friends, had resided in Sicily on the family estate _and had eloped with Elizabeth Danforth_. Which must mean that Marcus Crouch was Hermione's birth father!

"You must understand, what I'm doing for Anna, what I tried to do for you all those years ago; I didn't want you two to end up like me. Pregnant, eloped, then widowed. You can't begin to understand that pain, of not only losing the person you love, but in the process being disowned by your family. At least if you were married to good men, you'd be content and well cared for."

Draco felt his heart thumping in his chest. He hardly noticed Elizabeth leave the corridor, or Hermione stand, dumbfounded. Elizabeth had orchestrated him and Hermione years and years ago. It hadn't been spontaneous, nothing about it had been real. It had been his godmother trying to _prevent_ her daughter from falling in love. If this was the case, had it all been fake? Had Hermione never felt anything for him? Had his own feelings be manufactured out of a lie?

His head spinning, he heard a gasp and a sob escape Hermione. The once proud Gryffindor was falling on her knees not five feet from him, head in her hands, tears streaming down her cheeks. She wasn't a pretty crier, even in the semi-darkness he could heard her gasping, gulping breaths and imagine her blotchy red face. He found himself holding his breath, unmoving.

If, indeed, all the unsaid feelings between them had been painted by their parents, created when they didn't really exist, he couldn't go comfort her now. He closed his eyes, and tuned her out. She would stop crying soon enough, and leave. Then he would return home. There would be no more socializing for him this evening.

He bit his lip and thought of stories: of family histories, of children's tales, of the War. He filled his mind with daydreams to escape the reality. When he ran out of stories, he began to remember his school lessons. He listed potions, spells and charms; thought through lessons and exams. Finally, when he could think of nothing else to list, to distract his mind, he let it wander back to the present. The crying had stopped. Peering through the tapestry, he saw the figure in the red dress was gone. He could leave.

Tentatively, he stepped out of the alcove. Choosing not to go back past the party, he walked instead to the library. He would be able to take the ground-level exit from that grand room. He could apparate from the lawn. His pace quickened, he needed to leave. Choosing speed over stealth, he threw the door of the library wide.

There was a shriek from below him, and in the moonlight on the first floor of the grand library he saw two figures spring apart. He knew that shriek. He ran down the spiral stair to his right and drew up next to Asteria Greengrass, clutching the hand of Blaise Zabini.

"Oh! Draco!" Asteria seemed incredibly startled, and Blaise looked sheepish. Draco felt the emotional center of his brain shut down in an effort to not have a bizarre reaction. He nodded stiffly to Blaise, and went off to the right of the couple, taking the glass ground-level exit in an effort to get home.

Blaise dropped Asteria's hand and went after Draco, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Draco, I…" Draco turned around to face his friend briefly, not knowing what to say. Blaise glanced back at Asteria, who nodded to Draco, then hoisted her skirts and left the room.

As soon as the door shut behind her, Draco shook his head and turned to leave, not wanting an explanation. Blaise, however, grabbed Draco's upper arm and prevented him from leaving.

"Give me a chance to explain," Blaise said in his deep voice.

"Nothing to explain," Draco muttered, not turning back. Blaise did not relinquish his grip.

"Yes, there is. You were engaged to her until quite recently. Of course there's explaining to do."

Draco whirled around, looked Blaise directly in the eyes, and said, "No. There is none. Now will you let me go?" Draco's insides were in turmoil. He did not care a wit about Asteria or Blaise at this moment. If he had been more sane, he would have been wondering how long this had been going on, and why it was secret. If, indeed, it had been going on during his engagement to Miss Greengrass. But he was not sane at the moment, thus his thoughts did not turn to questioning his friend and ex-fiancee. The rage which would have normally bubbled up in him during this sort of situation was empty. That's all he felt right now… empty.

Blaise mistook the confusion and hurt in Draco's eyes. Blaise believed he had harmed his friend by messing with his ex-fiancee. He had no idea that Draco's thoughts were light years away from that room.

"Draco, you will hear me out; I will not let this turn in to a mess." Again Blaise elicited no response from Draco, so Blaise continued, "I'm not just messing around with Asteria, like I do with other women. She's been my friend for ages, and well… we're going to try and make it work. We thought it would worry you."

Again, there was nothing but a blank stare from Draco. Frusterated, Blaise defended himself more vehemently, "We've been friends for so long, looking out for each other, that we realized we love each other. We didn't actually have this conversation until after your engagement was broken off. The night of Pansy Parkinson's party."

Draco's thoughts wandered back to that party. That had been the day Asteria had so politely returned his ring and told him to go after the girl of his dreams. A girl, whom it seems, he only loved because he had been told to love her.

Blaise was searching Draco's face. Seeing the dismay upon it, he added, "We were going to wait to make it official until you were ready; so as not to hurt you."

Something about the last sentence snapped Draco to the present. "Official? What are you making official?"

Blaise took a breath, and released Draco's arm. "Our engagement. We're going to be married. I love her."

Draco was dumbstruck. "When?"

"December Twenty-Eighth."

"The day that I was supposed to marry her."

"Yes." Blaise awkwardly patted him on the shoulder, and then withdrew his hand, leaving the two standing with nothing to say. Finally, Blaise said quietly, "I know this is bizarre… but I still need a Best Man."

And right there, right then, Draco Malfoy burst out laughing. The absurdity of the situation struck him all at once. And after a split second of confusion, Blaise Zabini joined him.


	30. Chapter 28: The Job

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Job**

Black heels. White blouse. Black skirt. Hair up. And black wizard's robes over everything. She was as clean-cut as she could possibly be for this interview. She looked good, but not flashy. And this interview had to go correctly. If she couldn't fix her love life, at least she could fix her career.

She was at the Lefay Hopitale in Paris, France. They had granted her an interview not two weeks after she had discovered the envelope in her old house. They were looking for a Pediatric Spell Damage Healer-In-Charge, and she knew that she fit the bill. Both Healer Aaderon and the current healer she was working under had given her excellent recommendations. Her heels clicked on the floor and her thoughts wandered.

She hadn't seen Draco again that night. She hadn't tried to track him down, either. Something in her had broken at the thought of him kissing another girl. She couldn't quite fix it, either. After hearing of everything as it had truly occurred, she had fallen even deeper into a state of liking him that she had thought possible. He'd saved her sister from a marriage to a man two decades older than her. He had rallied for, not against, her promotion in her chosen career path. Yet there was still one stipulation: he was engaged. And if the encounter in the library of the Lane Mansion was any indication, he and his fiancée rather liked snogging each other. There was nothing she could do about it.

Head high, she cleared her mind of all thoughts except her career as a Healer. She went in to the board room of the Lefay Hopitale knowing she would succeed.

"We'll expect to see you Monday, then, Healer Granger. It will be a pleasure to have you aboard with us," the Healer-In-Charge of the Lefay Hopitale was shaking her hand vigorously, and had just concluded praising her reputation. He had offered her the job on the spot. The hospital was paying to move her things to Paris, and for her rent. She would be close enough to floo home on weekends, and working in a job she loved. Everything was looking up.

When she returned home that afternoon, there was an owl waiting for her. She smiled and thanked the pretty bird, taking the envelope from its beak. It flew off, hooting softly. She saw the parchment was very fine and, curious, she broke the seal. It was a wedding invitation. Not wanting to look, she only opened it enough to see the first few lines:

_On the date of Twenty-Eighth December,_

_Two-Thousand and Two_

_Mr & Mrs Hyperion Greengrass_

_Cordially invite you to celebrate_

_the marriage of their daughter,_

_Asteria Angelica Grace_

Hermione snapped the invitation shut before she could read the rest. She would not be attending that wedding. However, she did have a wedding to plan. Ginny had owled her that morning to remind her of a dress fitting this afternoon. It seemed it was time to go to Diagon Alley.

An hour later found Hermione, Luna and Fleur getting direction from Ginny, who was overseeing Madam Malkin as she flitted between the bridesmaids. Appropriately, the wedding would be gold-themed, and the bridesmaids' dresses were pale gold that shimmered. It was a full two hours of standing on pedestals with varying wand motions from Madam Malkin to adjust the fabrics before Ginny was satisfied. Finally, the women made their way back into the alley.

"So tell us more about this job, Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed as they left, now fully out of her bridezilla state.

Hermione smiled broadly, "I'm to start at the end of the month. I'll have just enough time to tie up loose ends at the hospital in Sicily, then pack up and move. It's close enough that I can floo here on a regular basis."

"That's lovely, Hemione," Luna remarked.

"But tell us about the job itzzelf!" Fleur demanded, flourishing her hands.

Hermione smiled, and thought of the hospital she had seen that morning. "I'll be in charge of the pediatric wing in the Spell Damage Division. The LeFay Hopitale is actually quite a bit bigger than St. Mungo's, so the Children's Hospital is in an entirely different complex than the regular hospital.

It's all the work I was doing at St. Mungo's, but for better pay, and primarily with children, which is what I want to do. They're calming, somehow; more peaceful than adults. I'll oversee all the surgeries and diagnosis, and be able to step in once in a while to do some work myself.

The Chief Healer of the Children's Hospital told me that the staff for my division alone is about a hundred; consisting of residents, interns, researchers and housekeepers. I'll be meeting up with the Chief Resident my first day of the job, to talk through the workings of the division."

"Oooh. Is it a boy, by chance?" Ginny asked, and was elbowed by Luna.

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "No, actually, it's a woman. She's about our age, though, I think she went to Beauxbatons."

Ginny looked slightly crestfallen, but Luna smiled. Fleur started chattering about Beauxbatons memories, and Hermione tuned her out as they meandered the alleyway.

Her first official day found Hermione in the lobby of the LeFay Children's Hospital at nine o'clock in the morning. Clutching her folder in her hand, she saw a crisp looking woman make a beeline for her from across the room.

This lady was just younger than Hermione, with straight, dark hair pulled up into a ponytail. She was in white healer's robes and clutched a black clipboard in her hands, beneath it were what looked like multiple charts. She smiled as she approached Hermione, and stuck out a hand for Hermione to shake beneath her numerous papers.

"Welcome, Healer Granger. I'm Healer Joulie. I'll be showing you around our wards today." The two began walking, and Healer Joulie led Hermione up two floors to the wing dedicated to pediatric spell damage reversal. Hermione gasped as she entered the landing. The facility was beautiful. Immaculate, in pastel blue and green, not one paper was out of place on the counter, and each of the staff was as clean as the room. The people that Healer Joulie introduced Hermione to were vibrant and friendly, all quick and smart. It took the better of the morning for Healer Joulie to show Hermione around, and finally they can to the little room that would serve as Hermione's office.

Hermione gasped when she opened the door. It was perfect. The window on the opposite wall showed a view of the city, bustling with activity. The walls were a pastel blue swirled with white, and the silk curtains only a shade darker, bordered by sheer fabric. There were lilies in a vase on the desk, and shelves above it held office supplies and two matching picture frames of blue roses.

"I didn't know the hospital decorated our offices so nicely," Hermione said, stepping forward to inspect the desk. It was made of very fine wood.

"They don't," Healer Joulie quipped, "Miss Narcissa gave specific instructions as to your office."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, "Narcissa Mafloy?"

"Of course," said Healer Joulie, "she's the only Narcissa I know who's heavily involved in the LeFay Children's hospital. She heard you were coming and demanded we welcome you properly. Sounded like you have a family connection."

"Sort of," Hermione turned to look out the window to avoid the inquiring Healer's gaze. The Healer behind her then gave a gasp, and Hermione whirled back around.

"I'm so sorry Healer Granger, but I lost track of the time! I need to be going!"

"Where to?" Hermione was curious as to what could pull someone away from their career in the middle of the day.

The Healer smiled, "One of my friends is getting married, I need to get to the wedding. You'll be alright on your own?"

Hermione nodded, but asked, "Do you mind me asking who?"

The Healer shook her head, "Why, Asteria Greengrass," she smiled, nodded to Hermione, and skipped out the door.

Hermione slowly sank in to the chair at her desk and took a peek at the calendar at its corner: It read 28 December 2002.

* * *

Thanks you to everyone who is still with my, 58 chapters into the world of _Moonlight_ and _Starless_.

I know this chapter wasn't particularly exciting, nor long, but there are two last chapters - which I think you'll all enjoy quite a bit, as they include the return of a certain blonde - right around the corner!

Last, but certainly not least, my profound thanks to everyone who's reviewed, and also to my beta, Flossey. Feedback is an author's bread.

~Liza Lew~


	31. Chapter 29: The Wedding Day

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Wedding Day**

It was a cool January morning on the Hogwarts grounds, so early that mist rolled over the dewy grass and the chill lake. False dawn had arrived, but the sun had yet to peer over the hills. Despite the early hour, Ginny Weasley's bridesmaids were up and on their way to awake the bride for her wedding day.

The two blondes and one brunette were not entirely awake themselves, and as they stumbled out of their rooms of the cozy Hogsmede Inn, the brunette nudged one of the blondes and mumbled something vaguely familiar to 'coffee.' The three made their way down the stairs in to the warm sitting room and the brunette mumbled a few incoherent words to one of the kitchen staff, who produced a tray with four cups, coffee, cream and sugar in addition to rolls and preserves. The parade of bridesmaids made their way back upstairs, and the quirky blonde opened the door of the bride's room, while the tall blond shook her awake. The brunette carefully set the tray down on the night-side table, and the ladies settled on the bed, chattering happily while sipping caffeine. The wedding day had begun.

An hour later, the bridesmaids were shoed out of the room to get ready themselves as the bride showered. Trimming, prodding and painting themselves to perfection, each bridesmaid was only half done when the bride called them back in to help. Meticulously, the bride's hair was pinned up in to swirling curls with not a lock out of place.

The bride's make-up was perfect but natural, there would not be any bright colors or glittering sparkles on her face today; but a hint of smoky eyeshadow was present alogn with a classic red lipstick.

Her dress was entirely crème in colour. The neckline was nearly straight and off-the-shoulder, accenting her shoulders and neck area. The sleeves were long and slender, form fitting, and came to points on the backs of her hands. The lacey top half gave way to a slender princess skirt, the lace itself trailing into silk. The train was the length of a cathedral train, extending almost seven feet from her waist, and the bride could not handle it by herself, but she seemed barely to notice. Her Aunt Muriel's tiara completed her dress well, and she outshined the bridesmaids.

By the time she was done, the bridesmaids settled her down with a light lunch and a book while they went to take care of themselves. Each bridesmaid wore a dress in a deep maroon, with the same neckline as the bride's, but a simplified A-line skirt instead of lace and a train. Every lady's jewelry was gold studded with rubies, and their hair up in elegant twists.

When the clock chimed two o'clock, the group of women made their way to the waiting carriage outside the inn. It rumbled along the street and up to the gates of Hogwarts through the snow. The day had cleared, and the wedding tent was visible on the lawn.

Events began at four o'clock that evening in the Great Hall. Guests began pouring in, dressed in every color imaginable, to find the Great Hall decorated as a chapel with rows and rows of golden chairs. The decorations were entirely gold and scarlet, as if every Gryffindor tapestry possible had been placed in that one room. The effect was slightly overwhelming, and the scarlet robes of the ushers did not soften the effect.

Hermione Granger was back in a side chamber with Ginny and her bridesmaids, and did not see all this. Nor did she see the amount of people that had come to wish the Boy-Who-Lived well. Draco Malfoy, on the other hand, walked in among the guests to a wholly Gryffindor ceremony. He happily greeted people he knew, and found a seat near the front on the groom's side, on the aisle next to Asteria and Blaise, who had only just returned from their honeymoon. For some reason he could not understand, he could feel himself getting nervous. It had nothing to do with the bride and groom of the hour: he had been on friendly terms with Potter for years. What thought, then, what premonition could make him nervous at an event such as this?

Just as his thoughts began to wander, music struck up and the congregation stood to watch the procession begin. He watched as the plump Mrs. Weasley was seated, and then as the little graying wizard who would perform the ceremony entered. Close behind him was Potter himself, beaming with anticipation. The music swelled and then the best man, Ronald Weasley, and the maid of honor, Miss Hermione Granger, entered the aisle together.

Draco felt his breath catch in his throat. She looked lovely. She was radiant with happiness for her best friends' day. She sparkled as she walked down the aisle, one arm on Ron's, the other holding a picture perfect bouquet of scarlet and yellow roses. Draco felt something swell in his chest that fell between pride and jealous for the man next to her. He didn't notice the rest of the processional: his eyes were on her the entire time. It was when the bride entered, and the congregation rose, that Draco saw the flicker of a smile across Hermione's lips, and her eyes slip over to Harry. Draco broke his gaze for a split second to see Potter's expression. He could not match it for joy.

Looking at the joy, love and admiration on Potter's face as he watched his bride waltz towards his, Draco Malfoy had an epiphany. All those years ago, his parents and his godsparents had set him up with one Miss Hermione Granger. They had intended to force them in to a marriage for their own protection. They had not intended them to fall in love. But, he, Draco Malfoy, had fallen in love with Hermione Granger of his own accord. And he still loved her to this very day. With that, he settled his gaze back on the maid of honor, and simply watched her light up as her two best friends got married.

Hermione was almost as giddy with anticipation about this day as Ginny had been. She had, however, kept her cool and taken care of the bride as any good Maid of Honor would. But once in awhile, Hermione found herself smiling broadly, thinking of the happiness of her two friends and their fairytale beginning.

With these thoughts throughout the day and the ceremony, Hermione found herself very relaxed and simply content as she sat in the reception tent on the Hogwarts grounds, sipping her champagne glass. Neville and Luna were next to her, chatting intensely, and Ron was on the dance floor being attacked by Lavender yet again. Hermione had never felt so peaceful, so at home. Every one around her was someone she knew and cared about. She grinned foolishly to herself and thought, _if I ever get married, I want my wedding to be just like this. A place where everyone I love, from all different walks of life, can come together, if only for just one day_.

She looked across the room and scanned the tables. There were several of her Hogwarts professors, with Minerva McGonagall leading the discussion. There was a group on the dance floor consisting of Dumbledore's Army members, all horrendous dancers having a splendid time. There, in the shadows, was a table of Slytherin classmates. Harry had insisted on unity, so there sat Pansy bickering with Goyle, and Draco doing his best to ignore them. Asteria was next to him, chatting up a storm to Blaise, who was listening intently. And… wait? Had Asteria just leaned over to Blaise and kissed him? Now she was waving her ring finger in Blaise's face and cuddling up to him. They were acting like. . . newlyweds.

Hermione gasped, and spilled her champagne glass. She brushed off the questions from Neville and Luna, and thought, carefully, back to the wedding invitation she had received from Asteria Greengrass. With a jolt, she realized that she had never scrolled her eyes down to the bottom of that page to verify who the groom was. Waves of shock rolled through her, as she gave hasty excuses, leaving the tent for the one place she had always been able to find answers: the Hogwarts Library.

When she entered, it was dark. School was in session, but no students were there on a Saturday. Madame Pince herself was absent – she was down at the wedding. Hermione quietly lit two of the lanterns and began searching through the shelves. She did not know what she was looking for, so she randomly pulled volumes, skimmed through them, then replaced them.

After a while, her mind quieted. Then the thoughts that were bugging her came to her mind. She had jumped to conclusions. She had assumed that Asteria Greengrass married Draco Malfoy. It looked like she was wrong. Which meant… Draco Malfoy was still free. Her heart clenched in her chest and the words repeated themselves inside her mind. _Draco Malfoy was still free_.

She had been trying to convince herself for who knows how long that, though she had feelings for him, she would be able to move forward. That, despite her feelings which would not be reciprocated, she would live an amazing life and continue to function. Now, it seemed… there was hope.

Normally, Hermione Granger did not lack for courage. In the instance of her heart, it was no different. She closed her eyes, hugged the book she held, took a deep breath, and then turned, setting the book down. She was going to find Draco Malfoy.


	32. Chapter 30: The Starlit Sky

**Chapter Thirty: The Starlit Sky**

Draco Malfoy had seen Hermione run out. Already halfway been elation at discovering his true love and depression at realizing he'd probably lost her, it took him half a second to decide to walk outside for some fresh air. He made his way down in the snow to the edge of the forest and the lake.

He scooped down to get a broad, flat rock and thrust it across the water. It skipped a few times, then plunked to the bottom. He grinned as foolishly, crazy metaphors going through his head. He stared at the place where the rock had sunk for a minute.

He should find her. Talk to her. Better to take a chance now and get hurt then always be wondering. He wrestled with his mind for an unspecified amount of time. Then he heard footsteps behind him. He knew before she spoke who it was.

"You're far away from the wedding reception," she stopped a few feet behind him, wrapping her shawl around herself tight.

He didn't turn around, but picked up another rock to skip. "I suppose so," he threw the rock across the lake, but it gave two pitiful skips before plunking to the bottom.

She didn't laugh at his rock-skipping attempt, but shifted on her feet. "I always wondered why the lake didn't freeze over in the winter."

He smiled at the awkwardness of their small talk, and said simply, "Probably something to do with the giant squid."

He heard the smallest laugh from her, and then, "Perhaps." She opened her mouth again, closed it, and didn't speak. Silence stretched between them. He shifted and leaned against the tree next to him, refusing to turn and face her. Instead he gazed up at the sky, and said, "Beautiful night for a winter wedding."

"Yes," Hermione smiled, "Ginny and Harry were quite pleased. No blizzard."

"Potter. I still need to wish him joy," Draco said plainly.

"You'd better go soon, then. They're leaving on their honeymoon before eleven." As matter-of-fact as she said it, she did not sound like she wanted him to go. Slightly hesitant, she added, "Or. . ." but trailed of before she finished.

He smirked a bit and said, "Or what? Freeze my arse off outside, alone?"

"You're not alone." Hermione wanted to pull it back as soon as she said it, but it came out so lightning-quick that she was hard pressed to stop her own heart speaking.

"No," he said quietly, as if not really believing it, "I'm not." It was at this moment that the giant squid chose to wave its tentacle in the direction of Draco, and both uncomfortable persons burst out laughing.

"Wonderful timing on the part of the squid," Draco said, the tension momentarily broken.

Hermione grinned, "Impeccable. I think it was eavesdropping."

"That _is_ what giant squids do on a regular basis. Eavesdrop on witches and wizards, I mean."

"They're professionals. It's the tentacles. They make them hear better."

"Dendacula plants must hear very well then, with their long tendrils."

"Only when they survive Professor Slughorn's pruning."

"Ah yes, when he takes their leaves for academic purposes."

Hermione scoffed. "Yes, very academic, and adds to his pocket money at the same time."

There was a breath of silence, and Draco's tone changed, "I don't think I've seen you since my engagement party."

Hermione played with her hands in front of her, "I've been busy."

"So I've noticed."

"I saw you at Anna's engagement," he did not respond, so she added, "You set up her engagement."

"Yes." His voice was quiet.

"And my career – you recommended me to the finest hospital in Europe."

"Yes." It was now that she wished she could see the expression on his face. Finally, he asked, "Why are you out here, Hermione?"

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms, "And I suppose you expect me to give you some sappy romantic answer?"

He chuckled, and she could just imagine the smirk at tugging at the corner of his lips. "You always did favor the blunt. I love that about you."

She froze, unmoving at those words. There was a moment when the only sound between the two of them was the crickets playing their strings. He sighed, and dropped his arm from the tree it leaned on, "Does that word scare you that much, Miss Granger? Am I not allowed to use it."

"But. . ."

"The women in your family seem to have a problem with that word," he turned to face her, eyes twinkling. "Your mother, for instance. Fell desperately in love with a man whom she was not suppose to marry. Eloped with him, got pregnant with you, and then found herself alone when the Dark Lord lost the first Wizarding War. You can now find her as the emotionless societal wife of the year. Strange thing, what love does to us all."

Hermione looked down at her feet, and said, rather quietly, "Only a mad person would let themselves fall in love."

She fidgeted with her hands, a so un-Hermione-like gesture that he looked down at her, and made the mistake of looking at her face. As he sketched it with his eyes, she lifted her head and their eyes locked. There was something searching in there, as if she was daring him to contradict her. They looked away at the same time, him to the right and her to the left, as if burned.

"That's why our mothers did this," she said when he did not speak, "they tried to set us up so we wouldn't fall in love. So we wouldn't feel that pain. So that our hearts wouldn't be ripped out of our chests and strewn across the floor."

Draco smirked at her and moved a step closer, stopping when she gave him a look. "We didn't exactly do what they wanted, did we?"

Hermione gave a weak bittersweet laugh, "Not so much," she felt her own heart squeeze against her chest as she took a breath.

"Although, if I'm not mistaken, my mother has been trying to thrown us together quite recently," Draco saw a weak smile play across her lips, but did not miss the pain etched through her face.

"Draco," Hermione put a hand out to pause him and he, without thinking, reached out to touch her hand. So faint it was almost a whisper, shocks began resonating between the two until she forcibly drew back. "You asked me why I was out here," she breathed again, drew herself up straight, and looked at him in the eyes, "I have an apology to make. I followed you to make it. I misjudged you, not only in our shared past, but in the last six months. I blamed you for my career, my sister's marriage, and so many other things. You deserved none of that. On the contrary, you were. . . you are. . . ever the gentleman." She looked ready to burst in to tears, but instead of sobbing, slowly, ever so slowly, she turned, and began walking out of the garden.

Draco, confused, bewildered and desperate, called out after her, "Please don't go."

Her head turned over her shoulder to see his face illuminated by starlight, and her heart squeezed in her chest. She needed to test her theory. To see if he, indeed, had _not_ married Asteria Greengrass. To verify. Barely above a whisper, she said, "you wife will be wanting to see you." She turned back around, and commenced taking steps, while Draco's expression went from hurt to confused to enlightened to determined in the space of thirty seconds.

With two strides he caught up to her, stopped her with an arm around her waist, and turned her so they were facing each other. She began to open her mouth, but he gave her one look and she ceased. He said very decisively, "I am not married. I am not engaged. And I am in love with you, Hermione Jane Granger. I love your bossy way of doing things, your never-back-down attitude. Your love of books and fear of flying, your passion for your work and your sense of adventure. I love you and I want to be with you."

Hermione searched his face for a moment. Then she said, with all the wit she could muster, "I do not like you, Draco Lucius Malfoy. You are arrogant, going around with your social status and using your name as your token. You can be scared of the silliest things and simply irrational. You don't listen, and you crack obnoxious jokes. You're hard-working, and ridiculously determined. You use your brains and your social connections to take care of everyone who matters to you. You're loyal to a fault and kind to those in your path. You don't give up. I love you."

He looked down at her, as if shocked. She smiled tentatively, and met his eyes. She searched them, as if trying to identify something important. For an instant, her gaze relaxed, and then, before he knew what she was doing, her hand was on the back of his neck, and she pulled him down, meeting his lips with hers.

Starlight shot through the both of them, and she pulled back ever so slightly, gasping. He finally understood, and a smile replaced the shock in his eyes. He took one look at her, then wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. The two stood in silence under the starlit sky until daybreak.

The End.


	33. Epilogue

**Epilogue: How It All Began Anew**

One can only imagine how many, many long nights it took before Hermione and Draco came to true understanding. More than one heartfelt conversation took place before the shadows of the past were laid to rest. Not only were their common and differing beliefs discussed, but all the misunderstandings of past years were talked through meticulously. Neither of them wanted to screw it up again.

They spent time together every day, reacquainting themselves with each other after years apart. It was not always easy, both had as many faults as perfections, but they had learned patience and knew by now that they were what each other wanted. The many stories of how they became reacquainted are, alas, for another tale.

The couple dated for two years before tying the knot. Standing up at their wedding were Harry, Ginny, Asteria and Blaise. Both couples remained the closest friends in the years to come. They did not, however, retain contact with Anthony Goldstein, who after a short tenure at St. Mungo's, transferred to the Americas as the head of a new magical medical mission.

Hermione and Draco attended the wedding of Anna Lane and William Trenton Smith in the summer of 2005, it was purposefully a long engagement. The young couple settled down in a pretty country estate and is awaiting their first baby – a boy to be named after his gods-father.

It seemed that, as the Lane-Smith wedding came to a close, everyone was paired off, as generations tend to do. Even Luna returned from her naturalist adventures with a friend in tow. He was said to be the great-grandson of the author of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_, and naturally Luna found him fascinating. The travelled the world together and only settled down years later.

Neville remained at Hogwarts, teaching herbology to some excellent students, although his study of dendacula leaves concluded after only a year's worth of research due to lack of supply. Apparently the students discovered their value in back alley trading.

Ron continued to work with George at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes; always the butt of the joke and usually and explosion along with it. Business boomed and eventually expanded to a second outlet shop in Dublin, and Ron added regular travel to his list of responsibilities.

Ginny played for the Hollyhead Harpies for only a few more years, and then retired to be the chief quidditch consultant for the Daily Prophet, where she was hired by the newly-promoted Asteria Zabini. Harry remained head of the Auror department for decades to come, working to change magical law and enforcement with the aid of his many allies. The Potters had three adorable children, all miniature copies of Harry and Ginny themselves – except the eyes.

Paris was where Hermione remained for her career, working as the Healer-In-Charge of the Spell Damage Division at the Children's Hospital for a full decade and loving every minute of it. By the time she was in her mid thirties, she was a prime candidate for the Healer-In-Charge position for the entire Children's Hospital, and it was on the day she got the job that she told Draco she was pregnant with their first child, a baby girl.

The Malfoys would continue their life together for many years to come.

* * *

I would like to take a minute to thank the literally hundreds of readers who have remained faithful through the 60 chapters of _Moonlight_ and _Starlit_. It is through your love, reading and reviewing that I have been able to complete this story and loved every minute of it. I don't have plans for any future projects at the moment, but you will all hear if I decide to continue writing. In the meantime, write, read and have fun in the world of stories.

All my love,

Liza Lew


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